Chocolate & Gold
by Minghella Darcy
Summary: She was thrust into Japanese society after a cruel betrayal. He's marked for death for the blood running through his veins. Can these two unlikely companions find redemption and peace in a new age? AU fic, please R
1. Prologue: The Story of a Girl

Prologue: The Story of a Girl

At six, she'd been very clever.

No one had realized it at the time, of course. She'd always been so boisterous at that age. The only daughter of the wealthy Darcy Family of Philadelphia. They were proud and dark, 'old money', but honest 'old money'. And like any honest man, her father had joined the U.S. Navy, looking to serve his country. In the midst of this obsession, he'd met and befriended Max.

Max Fuushiro was a Japanese entrepreneur. He never mentioned what business. The two had become inseparable to the point that she'd been required to call him 'Uncle Max'. She'd watched him from the top of the stairs when he'd visited, quiet and watchful. Something about the way he'd... she'd never known what it was about him that made her reject him.

She'd never known a time when Uncle Max hadn't been in her house. She'd grown up hearing their stories and seeing their fake camaraderie. Fake on Max's part, of course.

On her sixth birthday, Max Fuushiro was made her godfather and legal guardian should anything befall her parents. She'd sensed that something changed when that happened. Where Uncle Max had once been a twice a year headache, he suddenly rented an apartment downtown and came to dinner everyday. This lasted for months before Uncle Max was suddenly called away on business. It seemed that when he left her father suddenly became more paranoid.

Her parents had always gone out for dinner on Tuesday nights. It was a sentimental event - the couple had met on a Tuesday and they were still deeply in love. That Tuesday her father came to the girl's bedroom, looking relieved and sad at the same time.

"I want you to know how much we love you, honey."

"I love you too, Daddy."

He'd then told her something that had made her blood run cold. He'd told her his suspicions and given her a plan to beat her Uncle Max at his game. She'd wanted to go with them that night, had simply known that something was gonna happen to them after they left. But he'd sworn her to her course of action.

The report said that they'd swerved into the path of another automobile and then flipped into a streetlight. They'd died almost instantly. The girl barely knew what happened those next few days. She was taken onto a boat in a whirl of tears and funeral arrangements at which she was always present, Uncle Max faithfully at her side. Before she knew it, she was stuffed into a kimono, an outfit she'd never even heard of, and put to work in her Uncle Max's kitchen.

She was hated among the other servants; hated for her dark skin and strange language. Hated her for her silence and her awkwardness. But the girl was clever, and she kept her silence. She made her plans and listened carefully to the new culture that she suddenly found herself in. She waited for the time when she'd be able to follow her father's instructions. It would be years before that could happen: the eve of her 18th birthday to be exact. But for now she could be patient. She could play the role of an unpaid servant in her uncle's house and take the abuse that went along with her new station.

At age eight, Areyn Darcy was still a very clever girl.

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This story takes place in an alternate universe (AU), one old enough to still include certain forms of slavery, even if it is frowned upon but modern in some parts enough to include things such as early forms of air transportation and polygraphs. Comments, queries, flames... I loves them all! Feel free to send any input you want, I'm looking to have my work critiqued, after all. 

- Minghella


	2. Chapter 1: A New Player

Chapter 1: A New Player

Running. All he could remember was the running. He stumbled on the refuse that always seemed to litter the streets of Kyoto, feeling the pain in his side flare up as he landed. The fear in his mind blocked out any attempt to hide or cower: they were still after him.

Who they were did not matter to him as he forced as much air into his tortured lungs as he could. He silently cursed his bastard father for failing them all so completely. They'd killed everyone without provocation or remorse, and he fervently prayed that the hated man was slowly being ripped to shreds and roasted over an extra hot spit in Hell for betraying his family's fragile trust. But the footsteps of his pursuers were slowly gaining on him and he had no time to relish the image. He only had time to run if he wanted to survive this night.

Flashback

_Night fell gracefully as Kenshin swept the porch of his father's tiny dojo. Even at the awkward age of seven, the boy could understand what such a peaceful moment meant. He ran his small hands through his blood-red hair and turned thoughtful violet eyes to the equally bloody sun squatting on the horizon._

_"More blood will be spilled this night," he murmured as he resumed his sweeping. These days it seemed that every sunset told this tale. It therefore did not strike him as significant that the gods had decreed more bloodshed. The war that raged outside his peaceful bubble meant little to him. What he knew of that world was what he heard in the middle of the night. His father ranting on about the impertinence of the rebels challenging the stability of the Shogunate regime and the need for shadow assassins like himself to stop the madness. His mother quietly pleading with her husband to stay with her and protect his family. The man never stayed long at home, and in the last two years he hadn't come home at all. Only the continued influx of money from the Shogunate confirmed that he was alive at all._

_The boy's frown deepened. He'd heard his mother's desperate sobs when she thought they were all asleep and hated his father all the more for her tears. It infuriated him that-_

_"You mustn't destroy my good brooms with your brooding, my son," a gentle woman's voice said behind him. The frown instantly disappeared from his face, chased away by his mother's voice. Tomoe Gohei was a beautiful woman who epitomized grace in his mind. She was tall and proud, with long ebony tresses that fell down the length of her back, tied at the nape of her neck and left to fall free otherwise. She was soft-spoken, but had an inner strength of spirit that he'd always admired. The boy often wondered what she saw in her killer husband - for killer he was. But eight years and four children later, she still had sweet words and gentle embraces for the man who'd always seemed too busy to be a father to his children or a proper husband to his wife._

_"It's time for dinner, little man."_

_Kenshin grinned broadly up at his mother for the endearment. As the oldest of her children and the only male, his mother had long ago conceded that he was the man of the house when his father was away. The boy took that responsibility as law. He never let himself quarrel with his sisters and he never let harm befall them. They all resembled their mother in one way or another after all, a woman that the young boy placed over all others._

_Akane, the youngest, came bounding into his arms as he entered the cramped little room the family always dined in. He laughed; it didn't matter what was happening around the two-year-old, when her brother came into her line of sight, she immediately had to be as close to him as possible. He picked her up happily, sitting her in his lap as he attempted to feed her the rice gruel his mother had made for her. But the little girl was much too excited to eat and his other two sisters laughed with abandon to see their brave, serious, young protector covered in the soupy white mess that was meant to be the toddler's dinner. The boy was almost tempted to be angry at them for their glee, but one look at his mother's carefree face and he knew that he could never do such a thing. Their happiness was his, after all._

_He desperately wanted to believe that he'd known something was wrong when he'd heard the insistent pounding on the dojo gates, but death was at his heels and he did not want to taint the memory of his mother and three sisters with lies. In truth he'd simply assumed that it was the latest payment, albeit a little late in the day for such a thing. His mother had risen to get the door, her delicate brows knitted in worry, but Kenshin had stopped her, claiming his duty as man of the house. He'd run out to the door, only to have the gates burst open when he was halfway to them. The boy rolled out of the way of the half-dozen men on horseback just in time, noting that the men looked determined and demonic by the light of their torches. Then a piercing shriek rang out over the noise of those thundering hooves before being abruptly cut short and his blood froze. He ran to the tiny bundle of cloth and broken bones, not realizing that he was screaming his youngest sister's name until one of the horsemen turned and almost ran him through. Again Kenshin rolled out of the way, but felt cold metal slide into his side as he took Akane with him. The adrenaline in his system did not allow him to feel it much and he ran into the darkness, carrying her light body._

_"Akane? Akane!" He shook her desperately as he ran, hoping against hope that the toddler had merely been stunned. When he looked down into her tiny broken face, however, he knew that she was dead. Her large brown eyes, eyes like her mother's, stared directly in front of her as they must have when the horses trampled her. There was blood everywhere; too much blood for one so tiny to lose and live._

_"AKANE!"_

_"NOT MY BABIES," a desperate shriek answered his own. Quickly placing his baby sister on the ground, he sprinted towards his home, determined to protect his family. He stood frozen in place at the sight that greeted him when he reached the dining room. Both of his sisters were pitched over the table, dead if the alarming amount of blood spilling freely onto the floor was any indication. His mother was cowering in the corner, sobbing freely and almost completely obscured by the remaining four men gloating over her. Glancing to his left, he saw that one of the men was nursing a very nasty cut down the length of his arm. The man stared daggers at the woman as his blood mixed with the growing pool of the boy's sisters'. The man to his right was not moving at all._

_"Why? Why them?" a broken voice demanded, pulling his attention back to his mother. "Why did you kill my children?"_

_"The war is over, woman," one of the men, obviously the leader, spat angrily. "Your husband gave us quite a bit of trouble before we could kill him, so we felt that we should return the favor and send the rest of his brood to Hell to be with him." He laughed cruelly as Tomoe bent to the ground, beyond the ability to voice her anguish and pain._

_"We give you the gift of death, Gohei-san," he bowed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. She looked up at him, something cold and hard in her expressive brown eyes, but then she caught sight of her only son and joy suddenly suffused her features. Time seemed to stop as brown met violet for the last time and she saw his eyes darken and change to a glowing, rage-filled amber._

_"Run, little man," she whispered. "Live for us, Kenshin."_

_Uchi looked at the woman in confusion. He'd been anticipating her hatred, had decided to wait until she turned her full hatred on him before sending her to the afterlife. But now she looked as if she was ready to welcome death. He slapped her harshly and turned at the sound of a furious grunt. The woman's oldest brat stood in the hole the men had made when smashing through the wall to destroy Fugisawa's legacy. His small frame would have looked almost flimsy if not for the gaping wound in his side, a dagger held steady in his grip, and his unearthly amber gaze._

_"If you'd been smart, you would have died with your sisters," he smirked, giving an imperceptible nod to one of his comrades. Kenshin screamed as the underling lifted his mother up by her hair and slit her throat mercilessly. She seemed at peace, even as her lifeblood ran from her and across the room to join her daughters'._

_'Live for us,' her eyes seemed to say before closing forever._

_Kenshin did not wait for the chortling men to drop her dead body before he fled, hamstringing as many of their horses as he could reach before bolting out the gates._

_"I won't die," he ground out, putting on more speed as the men gave chase._

End Flashback

But after hours of dodging and losing his assailants in the streets of Kyoto made alien by the night, he only wanted to sleep. His wound bled freely despite his clumsy attempts at binding it on the run and he felt as if he were suffocating on his grief for the family he'd lost. And still they pursued him, these men who proclaimed the dawning of the Meiji Era and yet did not hesitate to murder defenseless woman and children in cold blood. They didn't deserve to kill him, these cowards who slaughtered families under the thin excuse of retribution.

He barely noticed the people running around him, obviously victims of the same fate of his own. The streets were slick with the blood of innocents whose only crime was the blood in their veins. He felt as if his might go mad with that knowledge. The boy sped up suddenly, tapping into some unknown reserve of energy in his determination to live.

_'Live for us, Kenshin.'_ The words banged and clanged through his head, forcing his feet to move despite his absolute exhaustion.

"I won't die," he muttered angrily, turning yet another corner.

He hadn't expected the girl turning that same corner and plowed directly into her. He clenched his teeth, fully expecting the ground to meet him, but the girl wrapped thin, strong arms around him and swung back around, smashing into the wall beside her to slow them both. They stayed that way for a long time, each struggling for precious oxygen as the screams of the dying sounded all around them. When he could speak again, he looked up, only to have the apology die on his lips. The girl was stunning. Her wide innocent eyes were deep and as expressive as his mother's had been. They stared up at him from a face as dark as the milk chocolates his mother had once bought during a day trip to Kyoto. Her thick lips, lips that would never need cosmetics to appear fuller, were turned up in a soft smile as she looked him over. She was obviously a very strong girl to redirect both of their falls as she had. Yet she looked fragile in her worn, dull grey kimono and equally faded maroon obi. He looked up again into her kind eyes and felt as if he were drowning in them. His mind could not have been blanker.

* * *

I'm sure you've noticed by now that I've taken a number of liberties with the Kenshin timeline, throwing around a number of relationships in the process. Let me assure you, the reader of a few things before proceeding to the next chapter: 

1. I don't intend to reveal the identity of Kenshin's father at any point in this fanfic, as it doesn't have any relevance to the story. So don't let the name fool you.

2. Yes, Tomoe was Kenshin's mother in this timeline instead of his eventual wife. I put a bit of Enishi-like worship in the young Kenshin for effect.

I'm not finished changing things by a long shot.

Please look forward to the next chapter!

- Minghella


	3. Chapter 2: The Price

_After reading over this chapter over for inspiration, I have come to the conclusion that I'm going to need a beta-reader for my stories. Anyone interested please contact me._

* * *

Chapter 3: The Price

Areyn hurried along her way, glancing up at the red-rimmed moon nervously as she made her way through the dark, silent streets. She knew that she'd been sent on a fool's errand. Yumi Komagata was in charge of the kitchen staff of her pretend uncle's house and she hated the young American more than anyone. Why was beyond anyone's ability to guess, but that did not change the fact that the African-American girl was given all of the lowest, most disgusting tasks to accomplish. Tonight she'd been sent out in the middle of the night to buy pickled onions from the open market for Hitashi, who was with child. Everyone knew that the market had closed hours ago, but the girl had known that if she didn't travel there and back (or at least make it seem as if she had), she would receive a sound beating. Of course, when she came back empty-handed she would receive one anyway, so the girl hardly saw the point.

As she'd set out towards home, she'd immediately felt it. Something was wrong. There had been a feeling of foreboding on the streets all day that had somehow sharpened now that night had fallen. A number of the more established families in the city had been desperately leaving with only as much as they could carry and there were rumors that the war was over at long last. The pieces fell into place around the time of the first bloodcurdling scream rent the tense silence in two. This was why she'd been given leave to venture to the market in the dead of night: Yumi was hoping that she would not return.

"You just don't know," the girl spat derisively. There was a very good reason why she was still alive, and it had nothing to do with her survival skills - impressive as they were. When her uncle discovered her disappearance there was no telling what he'd do to the bitch. This thought brought a dark smile to her full brown lips, one that disappeared as a number of answering yells tore through the night. People were dying all around her. Apparently the Ishin shishi were taking no chances with their hated enemies. As proof of this, a woman fell into her path suddenly - part of a woman anyway. All that was left of her was half a chest and a head. The girl retched, falling to her knees as the full impact of what was happening around her hit. She had to get off the street; these men had become animals, viciously wiping out anyone who might possibly pose a threat to the new Era they'd just established. In their state of mind it was entirely possible for them to cut her down without a second thought. She stood up from the puddle of sick she'd just made and sprinted away, willing her mind to shut out the sounds of frantic women and children dying in the streets. The ground was slick with blood; she'd never thought that she'd see so much blood at one time.

Then the fires started.

"You bastards," she huffed furiously, feeling tears running in warm streaks down her face. Not satisfied with individual slaughter, the fighters had started burning the possessions of those who'd been loyal to the Shogunate. Including the people.

She ran headlong around a corner, and ran smack into a warm body no bigger than her own. Her own body reacted automatically, whipping them both into a wall.

'I guess all those beatings are starting to pay off,' she sighed to herself. She looked the boy over quickly while he recovered, trying to decide how best to handle the situation. The first thing she noticed was his flaming red hair, which seemed to dance in the firelight around them. He was wearing a dark blue gi and a hamaka that may have been white or light grey at some point but now was covered in mud and grime and... Was that blood?

'He's one of them,' her mind chirped in sudden, unbridled terror. Here she was, in the middle of a war zone, with one of the enemy cradled in her arms, bleeding all over her. Oh, this was bad. This was so very, very bad!

Her mind was suddenly full of her father's final instructions to her. No matter how bad she might feel about the boy's situation, she had her own mission to fulfill.

If she died, her wicked uncle would win.

But before she could succumb to her fear, his head jerked up and she knew that no matter what, she would help this poor soul. He couldn't have been much older than she was, with high proud cheeks and a delicate bone structure that was almost feminine. His red locks framed his face perfectly, giving him a cherubic look even in the midst of this chaos. It was his eyes that decided her, however. His eyes were the most lovely she'd ever seen, a soft violet that had no place in this massacre. They were depthless and revealing, and right now they were filled with the type of shock and horror she'd known in those last fateful days before she'd entered her nightmare of a life.

The girl felt her resolve harden, even as thundering footsteps made their way towards the pair. It happened in an instant, in fact she was almost certain that the boy must have heard the click in her head as the plan fell into place in her head. Without a second thought she turned them around, this time slamming him into the wall. The boy fell down from the impact, those same eyes now filled with confusion and just the smallest spark of anger. Without hesitation she dropped down into the mud, and ran a handful of the thick brown stuff through his hair for camouflage. She had just enough time to put a muddy finger to her lips and stand up, partially shielding the boy, before the owners of those thunderous steps came into view.

"Which way did that little runt go?" one of the burly men ground out furiously. His katana was slick with blood and he looked half mad with bloodlust. "Where is he? You! Girl," he barked, finally noticing her. "An arrogant runt ran through here. Where did he go?"

"We've seen many people running these streets tonight, my lord," the girl responded in fluent Japanese to his horrible attempt at broken English. She permitted herself a small interior smile at the plainly shocked looks on all of the men's faces as well as that of the boy she was protecting. 'At least I have their attention now,' she smirked interiorly.

"You... speak Japanese?" the man said slowly, looking as if she'd just shocked him to the core.

"Yes, my lord," she answered patiently, resisting the urge to roll her eyes or sound sarcastic, two things that would surely get her killed.

"There was a boy. Red hair - no older than you. Did you see him?"

"I don't believe so, my lord. Although there have been a great number of boys running around and the fires make all of their hair look reddish," she said, looking the picture of innocence and integrity.

The man swore violently. "Did any of those boys have the Devil's own golden eyes?" he barked again, losing his patience. He was going to cut that slippery little brat into a hundred little pieces when he caught him. This was supposed to have been easy!

"No, my lord, not that I saw."

"What about you, boy?" the man growled, finally noticing the boy kneeling at the girl's feet. "Have you seen anyone?"

"I'm so sorry, my lord, but my brother is mute."

"Your _brother_?"

"Although we do not share blood, we are both servants in the house of Fuushiro."

"Fuushiro, eh? A good man," the man pronounced thoughtfully. "You two should hurry on home then. This is not a place for such a good man's underlings to be."

"As my brother and I have learned," the girl interjected smoothly.

"Eh?"

"We fell into the path of one of the warriors as we were racing for home, and he was wounded," she lied expertly, stepping aside to reveal the mud-stained boy at last. She had to compliment him. He'd kept his face down and his mouth shut throughout this whole ordeal, a rare occurrence in the arrogant, egotistical morons she'd encountered thus far in her new homeland. 'Of course, that might be because he knows that he's a hair's breath from discovery.' She'd actually taken a huge chance giving her man her uncle's name, but she'd known that the rebels would recognize the name of the man who'd supplied a healthy portion of the weapons and artillery for the rebellion. And she'd known from the moment she'd looked into the boy's eyes that he'd be a member of the Fuushiro Family by night's end.

"Give this to your master for the boy's wounds," the man grunted, tossing a handful of sen on the ground in front of the boy. "And hurry home," he commanded sternly before starting his search again, snapping orders to his men, who immediately split up and melted back into the chaos.

"Here," the boy said timidly as he rose from the dirty street. He handed the girl the money Uchi had thrown at him, looking a bit awed by the whole experience.

"Arigato," she chirped, bowing slightly before accepting the gift. She quickly totaled and halfed it, pushing some back at him.

"I can't accept this."

"Why not?" she asked serenely, staring the boy down until his eyes dropped and he slipped the money into his hamaka. "You should come with me."

"Come with-"

"My name is Areyn Darcy and I honestly do work for the house of Fuushiro. If you stay out here they're going to find and kill you, at least this way you'll have a chance. If you still want one," she added quietly, looking at her feet. It looked as if the boy was all alone in this world now. If he wished for death, she certainly could do nothing to stop him.

"I'm Kenshin Himura, and I'm honored that you would help me." She felt the blush right down to her toes and quickly moved off into the darkness to hide it. She could feel his surprise when she set off in a new direction rather than back the way she'd come, but he kept his silence.

"Your face would be wasted where I'm from. But Takani-sama would be much better availed of your service," she explained gently when they'd gotten far enough away that the two could barely hear the shrieks of the dying.

"Hai," he said vaguely, limping along behind this brave girl who'd stood up to a group of stone-cold killers for his sake. He just couldn't get over it; why was she helping him? Especially if she numbered among those that had fought for the winning side? He watched her as she moved through the streets with the ease and grace of one twice her age. She was confident in her stride and, opening his senses as his grandfather had taught him to, he felt a staggering amount of strength and determination radiating off of her as well. There was a deep pain buried within her Ki, but even that could not overshadow the power she wielded. He quickly stopped; dazzled by her light, but the girl didn't even seem to have noticed his examination of her spirit. Who was she?

They were now in the area of town he'd often heard his mother refer to as 'the upper class whore district'. He almost stopped in his tracks as she strode up to the largest of the teahouses and knocked on the front gate without a trace of shame. But then she beckoned him closer and warned him quietly to let her do the talking and he could do little else but look up dazedly as the gates opened to reveal a ridiculously tall, lanky man with spiky hair and a red bandana tied around his head. The man was dressed in a white hamaka and gi, both of which had a black trim that matched his black Chinese-style slippers. The fishbone dangling out of his mouth looked as if it had been there for too long.

"Whaddya want, Are-chan?" he said with an easy grin. "Aren't you out a little late and a little far from Yumi-san's watchful eye?"

"Tomagata-sama sent me for pickled onions for Hitashi-san, but the market was closed. I ran into this orphan boy who saved me. I think he might do well here, Sagara-san." The boy could only blink at his new friend's tone. Her voice had suddenly deflated to a soft, defeated pitch that did not suit the wondrous aura he'd nearly been blinded by a few minutes ago.

Sagara looked the earnest girl over for a moment before bursting out laughing. "So _that's_ your cover story? It's pretty thin."

"His parents died of cholera a few weeks ago," she continued, her expression dull but otherwise unreadable. "He saved my life tonight by pushing me out of the way of some crazed killers roaming the streets. Check his side."

The man whistled impressively, at the blood still oozing down the boy's side. "That looks deep. What's your name, kid?"

"Himura-san," the boy bowed, cringing in pain.

"Well, 'Himura-san'," the man laughed, "Are-chan must really like you to stick her neck out like this. You know what'll happen to her if-"

"I'm not helping anyone Sagara-san," she said in that monotone drone that set the boy on edge. "Look at his eyes." She waited until the man gasped before continuing. "Takani-sama would have you beat me senseless were I to leave such eyes to wander blood-soaked streets tonight."

"I can never tell when you're lying anymore," Sagara muttered in a much more serious tone than before. "You said his folks died of cholera?"

"You have taught me well the lesson of lies, Sagara-san," she answered him blandly. "The boy has no one. I believe he would be wasted in my master's dojo."

Sanosuke Sagara looked the girl over critically, trying his best to see through her. His official job was to guard Megumi Takani's teahouse, a duty he was almost never needed for. As the widow of the powerful Fuushiro brothers, most knew that she and hers were strictly off limits. Those that didn't were weak and quickly educated to the fact. But the true reason he'd been hired was because he'd caught the girl in a boldfaced lie the first time the two had met.

'Megumi-san may act like a tease and a softie, but she's no fool,' he admitted to himself. At age seven Areyn had been able to fool anyone around her, but at the time the ex-fighter had a sixth sense that seemed specifically tuned to the girl. Given the frequency of her visits, it had served his employer well to have someone around who could separate truth from fiction. And because of his strength he'd been more than able to punish the girl to the woman's satisfaction. There'd been a time when he'd sent her back to Fuushiro with angry bruises up and down her back almost weekly, and this seemed to have cured her of her nasty talent for dishonesty. But every once in a while he was sure that she was fooling him as well.

"Go on in, Are-chan," he said at last, finding nothing in her face or stance to hold against her. "Megumi-san's in her room."

"Thank you, Sagara-san." The girl bowed low and methodically, the same way she'd always bowed to him, even after her punishments. As always, the action wrenched at him, but he still had to eat, right?

"Forgive me, Are-chan," he whispered to her retreating back.

"Let me handle this." Areyn pitched her voice so low that the boy barely heard her, but he nodded slightly to let her know that he understood. Otherwise, the two made no sound as they passed by two rows of richly decorated dining rooms, one to either side of them, on their way to meet this mysterious 'Megumi-san'. When they reached the door, the girl had him stand to her side a one step behind her before moving forward and kneeling in abject humility and knocking on the shoji door as respectfully as one could.

"Enter," said a bored voice. The girl slid the door open, but remained where she was. "So, have you brought me a date, Areyn-chan?" Before he could register the question the beautiful, raven-haired woman who sat behind her desk in a kimono fit for royalty let loose the strangest laugh he'd ever heard in his life. "Ohohohoho!"

The girl remained bowed low, which annoyed the woman to no end. "Well, enter already! I have things to do tonight."

"I would not wish to soil your things, Takani-sama," she said dully, her head still touching the floorboard. Kenshin could see why she'd hesitate to enter the woman's private rooms. They dripped with opulence; he had a hard time not fidgeting, knowing what he must look like to her.

"What are you here for?"

"I brought you a potential, Takani-sama. But the streets have not been kind, and he's been injured." Megumi quirked a perfectly made up eyebrow in interest. She could only imagine what the American must think of her prosperous little teahouse in which one could always find companionship - no matter their appetites. For the girl to bring someone into such a life spoke of the boy' desperation. But what was the girl hoping to accomplish with such a peace offering? She came around the side of her overlarge desk to consider the two. They were covered in filth, but the boy seemed to have taken the worse of the dirt and grime. She spied his injury, which looked deep, but with the right treatment, he would heal without a scar.

'Then again, some of the girls would like that,' she mused, all business. She was eager to appraise the boy and see what Areyn saw, but first...

"Go and have a bath, both of you. Dr. Genzai will see to your wounds, boy. Once he is patched up, bring him to me and we will see if he's Silent Dove material," the woman announced the name of her teahouse grandly. She was almost annoyed when the girl simply thunked her head on the floorboard softly instead of spewing the thanks that she should. It had gone without saying that the girl would be spending the night, a luxury that she did not deserve. But it would be worth it if the boy turned out to be-

"Thank you very much, Takani-sama," the girl interrupted, before rising to shut the shoji doors.

"Go through the back, Areyn-chan. I don't want you two frightening the customers!"

It was two days before the proprietor saw the girl and her potential again. The delay had come from the doctor, who'd insisted that the boy have some rest before moving around too much. Looking at the boy now, Megumi knew that this audience was only for show. The boy had the face and grace of a true geisha. With the proper guidance, his natural talent would shine through.

"Takani-sama, may I present Kenshin Himura-san. He's petitioning to become one of your students."

Megumi let her hand run up the side of her too small kimono, a seemingly unconscious motion, and smiled winningly when the boy kept his eyes carefully averted from her womanly features. Oh, he would do nicely.

"Most of my girls and boys are here because they have to be. They've been sold to me by their families or they have nowhere else to go. What has brought you to my teahouse, Himura-san?"

"Are-"

"Before Areyn-chan's involvement."

The boy thought hard on the matter, knowing that his answers could determine both his and Areyn's fate. "My parents died a few weeks ago, along with my sisters. Since that, our family's dojo was sold to pay off my father's debts and I've been left out on the streets. I have a little money," he put in quickly, showing her the money he'd been given the night his old life had ended, "but I know it won't last forever. Meeting Areyn-chan was nothing short of the god's intervention, however. I had no idea what I was going to do until she told me that she might be able to help me."

Megumi nodded, sensing the lie in the first part of his story and the truth in the second. The boy obviously did not want to reveal where he'd come from, but he also had to be very much alone in the world to be willing to sell himself into this life. She glanced over at Sanosuke to confirm her suspicions and was pleased to see that he'd drawn the same conclusions she had. The man had become almost invaluable to her in the brief year he'd worked with her.

"Do you know what this place is, Himura-san?"

"It's a whor-teahouse, Takani-sama," he finished carefully.

"You may call me Megumi-san. Only the help refers to me as 'sama'," the woman said, waving him off. "No doubt Areyn-chan has done her best to prepare you for this meeting." She glanced over the girl discreetly, noticing that the girl hadn't moved or flinched at the accusation. She sighed softly; if not for her uncle's insistence and the lack of a market for her beauty, the girl may have made a precocious geisha herself.

"Let me tell you a little about myself before you decide to join this establishment. I was the 'daughter' of one of the most prestigious teahouses in Tokyo before I bought my freedom and moved here to start over. I built this place to bring a touch of class to the rough city - my late husband's estate has funded it well. I assure you that this place is not some lowly whorehouse, boy. My pupils are highly educated - as was I. Should you choose to stay here, you shall receive thorough lessons in history, the arts, politics, world cultures, and many other topics of interest. It is only upon completing the education that I set before you that we will even begin to discuss your payment."

"Make no mistake; I never make an investment without a three-fold return. If you cannot live up to your lessons, you will repay me in manual labor. I won't have my time wasted. Although my pupils go on to become what are commonly known as geisha, the name by no means covers these extraordinary children. I train my pupils to be companions to their clients rather than simple bedroom entertainment. This makes you highly desirable to the ladies - and possibly gentlemen - who will patron you. When that phase of your time here begins, you will begin to repay me for my generous training. Many of my pupils stay with me, but some are inclined to buy their freedom. But those are things to discuss later. For now, let me tell you that you will need much more than just your pretty face to make it here. Are you willing to accept my terms, Himura-san?"

"Yes, Megumi-san," the boy said, bowing humbly.

"Good," Megumi nodded, ringing for a servant. "Take this boy to Lio-san's old room. Ken-san will be staying with us from now on."

"Yes, Takani-sama," a non-descript young girl bowed before leading the boy away.

Areyn still did not know how to feel about her decision as she entered the Fuushiro dojo. On the one hand, she was relieved that the boy would be out of harm's way. But on the other hand, she'd just thrust him head first into the life of a whore. And she'd effectively ended their budding friendship.

"Geisha don't fraternize with the help," she muttered disdainfully, quoting Yumi as she expertly navigated the back way to the study. Normally she would have reported straight to the kitchen, but Megumi had insisted she report straight to her master, and if anyone fit that description, it was her godfather/uncle. She had to hand it to the woman: she was very cunning. It was also a fact that there was no love lost between the two former geishas. This had been the entrepreneur's golden opportunity for abject humiliation, given her brother-in-law's ridiculous protectiveness of the child. Sometimes Areyn had to wonder if the clever fox had figured her uncle out, but she was nonetheless grateful for her chance to embarrass her hated mistress. Assuming her usual kneeling position by her uncle's door, the girl knocked and waited for the show to begin.

"Enter," said an all too familiar cold voice. She shuffled into the room, suppressing a shudder.

"You worried me," the man accused the bowed head of his 'niece'. She remained silent, much to his annoyance. "Where have you been, Areyn?"

"Takani-sama had me stay with her while waiting to present a potential pupil." The man sat back slowly, putting the pieces together after two days of fretting. Of course the girl hadn't run away in the chaos of that fated night. She had nowhere to go; no hope of fitting into such a xenophobic society. That was, in fact, the reason he'd brought the little heiress here in the first: so she'd have no one but him. As for Megumi's generosity, he suspected it had everything to do with the fox' ongoing war with her disgraced former rival, Yumi Tomagata.

"Your grace," a voice said breathlessly from the door. Areyn turned just in time to see a much frazzled Yumi strut in the room. She was wearing a layered kimono of red with green trim - hardly appropriate for kitchen work. But then again, the woman was known for 'overseeing' rather than actually working.

"I only just heard that the treacherous little ingrate had returned to us," she continued, ignoring the girl completely. Areyn spied a tell-tale bruise on the woman's neck and couldn't help an interior grin. So, she had been punished for sending Fuushiro's prize out into the night.

"I see," the man said drearily. "You may go, Areyn."

"Yes sir," she said primly. "Tomagata-sama?"

"What?"

"I have the pickled onions you asked me to get for Hitashi-san two nights ago," she said, producing a small jar of the treats she'd fetched from the market on the way home. Again she had to work not to let her smile show in her face or voice as Yumi's face drained of all color under her powders and makeup. "Here is the change from the purchase, ma'am."

With her usual humble bow, the girl gave over the money and made her way to the kitchen, knowing that the two other occupants of the room would think her too dense to know the turmoil she'd just caused.

"If you ever try something like this again, I'll kill you," her uncle growled softly before she shut the door.

Alone in the hallway, Areyn finally permitted herself a small smile before returning to her dull, dreary self.

"Chores to be done," she muttered softly, the thrill of her victory warming her completely.

* * *

Apologies for the delay in the next chapter. Now that exams are over, I am free to give this story more attention.

Please review! I am looking for comments, criticisms, and anything else people might have to say. Thank you for your kind words, ShadowElite. I'll try my best to live up them with the next chapter.

- Minghella


	4. Chapter 3: A Day In the Life

Chapter 3: A Day in the Life

"Bring in those crates, girl," one of the kitchen maids snapped. "If you're going to look like a pack animal, you might as well act like one," the woman griped angrily, referring to her skin tone. Areyn held her tongue as she had learned to do over the years, using the anger to help her lift the bulky crates she'd been given. They were too heavy for her, but she was used to such heavy burdens by now.

It had been three years since that fateful night when Kyoto had been razed to the ground. Now the people lived in the uneasy peace of the Meiji Era. The ghosts of that night still seemed to walk alongside the living - suicide was not uncommon among the victors of Bakumatsu. Still, there _was _peace Most even believed that this Era was better than the one before.

For Areyn little had changed with the coming of the new age. Her monthly cycle had begun the year before, officially ushering her into womanhood, and with that transition had come other physical traits that-

"I wish to speak to you, Areyn," a chilling male voice ordered, making the girl cringe inwardly. She stacked the last of her crates and then began the trek to her uncle's study, a place she had never been invited to before coming into her own. Her once soft and somewhat portly body had thinned out and stretched into a very comely shape after years of manual labor. And although she was still shunned by the bulk of those she came in contact with, there were usually one or two lustful glances thrown her way in passing.

It was her uncle's constant attentions that worried and sickened her, however. The man had finally recognized her potential use as a female and the only heir to the Darcy estate and had begun a highly secretive and round-about courtship of his young charge over the last few months. His advances had finally driven the girl to wear an old sack filled with carefully placed mud under her clothing. She counted herself very lucky that he liked his woman thin. Her feigned obesity was enough to turn his nose and cut her already miniscule daily food portion, but the alternative was much worse in her opinion.

Max looked his young charge over carefully as she bowed her way into his presence as she always did.

"How has your day been?" the man asked awkwardly.

"Fine, Fuushiro-sama," she answered neutrally. The man groaned inwardly. The girl was always so damn polite. He wanted her to sass him sometimes so he'd have an excuse to teach her a lesson. He wanted to sample her, but dared not, knowing that he would have to gain the girl's admiration and devotion before such a thing was possible.

"You look as if you're gaining weight, niece," he said pointedly, examining her with a critical eye. He knew that the girl took after her mother in that regard, but her girth was disturbing considering the strict diet Yumi was more than happy to keep her on. Perhaps she really _was_ stealing food from the kitchen.

"I will be very upset should I discover that you are stealing from my house after all I've done for you. Do not shame your poor, dead parents."

"I would never do anything I thought might shame my 'poor, dead parents', uncle," the girl said humbly, obviously hearing the dismissal in his voice. He glowered at her retreating back and made his plans. He would have her in his bed soon enough. All he needed was time.

Areyn hurried on her way before the man could act on the impulses swimming behind his flat, dark eyes. She made her way back to the kitchen, knowing what was coming next. She forced herself not to dodge Yumi's slap, letting her head roll to the side for the woman's added pleasure. It was an easy act to pull off; she'd been doing it for years now.

"You stupid, ignorant girl! How dare you shirk your responsibilities? Where have you been?"

"Fuushiro-sama demanded to see me. I apologize, Tomagata-sama, for my tardiness."

Yumi growled low in her throat, turning from the disgusting child in front of her. There was nothing more she could do to the brat after that explanation.

"The bath-houses aren't going to clean themselves, girl. Get to work." She followed the dark-skinned girl to watch her complete the daunting task set before her, feeling some of her dark mood lift. While the woman knew better than most how diligently Areyn went about her chores, there was something satisfying about watching the little monkey work. Her eyes narrowed, wondering what Fuushiro could possibly see in the girl. She'd noticed the attention the man had lavished on the girl since her arrival at the dojo; had in fact born his wrath for allowing her to wander off the night the war ended. But she found herself wondering - as she had many times over the years - what was so special about the foreigner.

"Fuushiro-sama asked to see you, Tomagata-sama," one of the serving girl said softly at her elbow.

"Of course," Yumi sighed, heading to her employer's study. She wanted to toss a scathing remark at the American, something emphasizing her superiority in the man's bed, but decided against it. She would keep her master's secrets, disgusting as they might be.

"...waste of my time," she muttered darkly, sweeping into the house. She wasn't sure what annoyed her more; the fact that her taunting always seemed to fall on deaf ears where the girl was concerned or that the faint tug of jealousy still nagged at her whenever Max asked about the brat.

----------

"This is pointless," the man muttered as he watched his 'pupils' disdainfully. They were moving through the katas he'd taught them - deadly katas carefully preserved and passed down though thirteen generations of Hiten Mitsurugi masters - as if they were some sort of dance. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he kicked the legs out from under one of the boys before correcting his form.

"This isn't a damn waltz, boy! These are the techniques that formed this peaceful era you live in." Liu looked up at his sempai, resentment and badly-hidden amusement for the war veteran's situation in his eyes.

"Forgive me, Hiko-sempai," the boy said, his impertinence plain on his face. Hiko smacked him on the back of his head a bit harder than his employer strictly allowed before moving to the next student. He'd been subjected to this torture for the last three years. Some days he honestly didn't know why he bothered correcting his stupid apprentices. The moves they were learning were only for show and self defense anyway. They majority of them would never need this training and only two or three of them showed any promise. With a heavy sigh he sank into a sitting position, watching his favorite pupils to comfort himself.

"Your tea, Hiko-sama," a tiny voice whispered at his side. The man took the drink with a nod, sending the child scurrying out of the room, her tea tray covering her face.

"Are you scaring the help again, Hiko-san?" came a voice that would forever grate on his nerves. Megumi moved into the room gracefully as always, taking a seat next to him. "They are getting better."

"Bah! What would you know, woman? That idiot Rio would likely stab himself in the eye were I to give him a sword right now. Half of them wouldn't know what to do with the moves I've taught them if their lives depended on it! Kiki," he interrupted himself suddenly, making a tall, graceful girl jump. "For the last time, stop adding to the kata! The liquid grace of the Hiten Mitsurugi is beautiful enough without your unnecessary flailing and fawning like an overstuffed peacock!" At that, the fifteen year old girl dropped her bokken and fled the dojo, sobbing helplessly. The man sighed angrily, mentally counting to ten before growling at the class to finish their strokes. "These kids are too soft."

"That they are, Hiko-san," Megumi said, using the honey-sweet tone that let him know that he would hear about the incident later. "They belong to an Era where swords are forbidden, yet I allow you to teach them your technique."

"For all that they'll use it," the man griped, taking an angry sip of his tea and letting the bit of alcohol in it sooth his temper.

"You are dismissed," the woman said sharply, waiting for all of her geisha to head off for their next lesson before turning her full attention on the man. "This has to stop, Hiko-san. I will not have you terrorizing my pupils-"

"You hired me to make them strong!"

"I hired you to teach them to defend themselves in the highly unlikely event that they are attacked. All they seem to have learned is a healthy dread of your classes."

"Not all of them are that useless," Hiko countered. "Kenshin and Soujiro both seem to be picking up the true way of the sword-"

"They are not your pupils, but mine, Hiko-san."

"They have warrior blood in them."

"Warrior blood will do them no good in this time of peace," the woman countered waspishly. "We've been over all of this before, Hiko-san."

"I'm teaching them exactly as I was taught."

"Find a better way or you will be replaced. I will not warn you again, Hiko-san. There are a great many swordsmen left over from the war and any of them-"

"Keep your threats to yourself, Megumi-san," he grumbled, taking a long drought of his tea and effectively ending the argument. "They won't be any stronger for your coddling, but so be it. I will do as you ask."

Megumi bristled at the curt dismissal and decided to draw blood. "I would think you'd be happy with this arrangement, Master Hiko. After all, the generous salary I pay you is enough to indulge your... vices," she finished with a pointed look at his tea cup. The man froze with the cup halfway to his lips, his already thin lips drawn into an impossibly thin line as he ordered himself not to kill the foolish woman sitting next to him for taking him so lightly. He picked up his sword and stood, satisfied with the brief look of terror that crossed her face before she could cover it.

"You would do well to remember that I was not born into this false peace. Tread carefully." He left before she could say anything to fully rouse his anger.

It was the truth of Megumi's words that galled him more than anything. She was right; the salary he received for his work was more than any hardened veteran of Bakumatsu received for his natural skills, not to mention the lush accommodations. He was meant to rest from war, to luxuriate in the peace he had bled for.

The man scowled furiously, throwing his cup into the plush garden he had escaped to. What a foolish notion - the idea that a warrior could allow the sharpened edge of him, his sword, to rust simply because of a change in times. How foolish of the agents of this Meiji Era to believe that by forbidding old men's first love - the sword - that they would simply disappear, taking the guilt of the young, foolish officials with them. And all the more foolish were the warriors of those days - those that fought on both sides of the chaos - for allowing it to happen.

When he looked up from such dark thoughts, it was to find one of his favorite students studying him speculatively.

"You should be in class, boy."

"I would like to learn your fighting style more seriously, Hiko-sempai," Kenshin said, his fiery red bangs covering his eyes.

"Do you?" Hiko said, forcing the irritation out of his voice. "You understand that what such a request would entail?"

"Hai." Hiko looked the boy over carefully, trying to see through the careful defenses he'd built around his emotions. That was good, the man nodded approvingly. A careful hold on one's emotions was a pre-requisite for learning the true Hiten Mitsurugi style. It was, in fact, the one trait that the two geisha he considered his true pupils possessed.

"You must clear your training with Megumi-san," he said sternly.

"Hai, Shishio," the boy nodded gravely, bowing low and respectfully. He scampered off at that, and Hiko Seijiro allowed himself his first genuine smile in three years. It would be easy to let the twenty or so geisha-in-training blunder through his katas, as long as he had one student who took the work seriously.

----------

It took little time to make her rounds in the market place. Mostly, she was there to confirm the orders for foods that would never touch her plate and pick produce meant for the same fate. There were a number of girls that could have done the job, but Yumi felt it was safer and faster to send her 'unsavory' charge into the market. As far as the woman knew, she had no friends outside of the dojo - in fact, she had no friends at all. Therefore Areyn had no reason to dawdle. This suited the pre-teen just fine as it meant that whatever time she arrived back home would not be questioned.

She'd just finished her with the house orders when a hand landed on her shoulder.

"And what's a pretty little thing like you doin' wondering around in that get-up?" a rough and unsteady British sailor asked. She glanced back and noticed that there were only three of sailors, all looking at her as if she were some interesting specimen of monkey. "You're a negro, right? What kinda negro wears a bloody kimono?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand you," the girl lied smoothly, thanking God for the months Yumi had spent pounding perfect Japanese into her. She let her gaze drop demurely and started once again on her way, walking backwards now and not expecting for one minute that the drunken foreigners would leave it at that. Fortunately, this was a game she'd played many times before. If she could just get them off the street...

"Hey! What're you doin speaking Japanese, girlie?" another of the men leered. "That's not a skill what's come by easily. No, don't be afraid," he said, grabbing for her arm. "We're just a couple of gents out looking for a good time. Don't want no trouble, now do we, gents?" The three started laughing as their prey stayed just out of their reach. "Why don't you come with us, girlie? We'll make sure you get home if that's where you're headed."

"Yeah," the third chimed in, his smile slipping at his failed attempt to grab her skirt, "after we've all had a bit of fun."

"I'm only trying to get home. Please leave me alone," she said, still feigning an inability to understand anything but their tone. Her mind was barely on the words she was gibbering as she easily avoided their grubby hands and calculated the distance to the alleyway. She knew better than to ask the throng of regulars in the market for help by now. Most were such cowards that they could barely be persuaded to help their own. And as for the rest, she was not willing to let anyone 'sample' her. That meant that she only had herself to rely on, and _that_ meant-

"Stop bothering the girl," a carefully neutral voice interrupted her thoughts and the men's actions in perfect English. Areyn felt relief and anger flood her in equal parts. 'At least it'll be over soon,' she sighed to herself.

"What did you say to us, you-" Sailor #2 chose that moment to turn around and face, not some timid little boy as he'd obviously expected, but a tall, lanky man with eyes as cold as they were golden. He wore the uniform of a Japanese policeman, but carried a regular katana as opposed to the standard issue foils given to most of the officers. Lackeys number 1 and 2 seemed to get the hint that she was off-limits right away from the unknown man's very presence. Unfortunately, lackey number 3 was too inebriated to take the silent hint.

"What the hell do you want? We're just having a little chat with the lady, and we don't want to be disturbed. Don't you have some-?"

He promptly lost consciousness as the officer punched him in the mouth.

"I won't taint my sword with your blood, but I suggest you move along," the man said, glaring at them in a tone which brooked no argument. The two sailors gathered their friend and scampered off, hurling curses behind them as they ran. The officer turned to ensure that nothing more than curses would be thrown.

"You didn't have to do that, Saitou-kun," the girl huffed behind him. "I had everything under control."

"You're my pupil," the officer shrugged, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply before speaking. "I know you could handle it, but I prefer you not waste the skills I've taught you on fools."

"Who would you prefer I 'waste' them on then?" she countered, letting what had passed for a smile since her parents' death grace her lips. She couldn't help her amusement: this was exactly the type of situation that had befallen her when she'd first met Saitou Hajime. It had happened two years ago, and that time there had been a lot more than three merchants 'looking for a good time'. She often puzzled over how she caught anyone's interest, but usually chalked it up to the weirdness factor of her existence.

_Back then she's known little more than street brawling techniques she'd seen and copied off the television, and even at the tender age of nine she'd known that she was no match for the men. So she'd run - that was the first and last time she'd actually called for help. After running for a good twenty minutes she'd flagged down a man who'd taken one good look at the gang pursuing her and had pushed her down in front of them before running away. She'd started biting then - biting and kicking and scratching - anything she could think of to make them hurt her rather than rape her. That was the one thing she would not, could not let happen._

_But before the men could retaliate, a single katana had bloomed from the chest of the gang leader. He stared at it uncomprehendingly before it was withdrawn and he slumped over dead. After that the men had scattered frantically, leaving the girl to her fate._

"Your power comes from your legs, girl. Have you been doing those exercises-?"

"You know I have," she grumbled, her thoughts pulled back to the present by his tone.

"Good. That is all I'll teach you today. Practice when you can and meet me here - on time - next week."

"Arigato, Saitou-kun," she said, bowing respectfully before handing over her bokken and running off. Saitou watched her go, annoyed at the questions surrounding her. Mibu's Wolf was meant for more than teaching little girls how to fight. 'But then again,' he smirked to himself, 'Mibu's Wolf was meant for more than walking the streets dispatching common thugs.' He turned crisply and continued on his route, wondering why he even bothered with this part of his job.

"Aku Soku Zan," he breathed, knowing that the pursuit of justice could not be trusted to the delusional weaklings of the Meiji. These were not the men who had found and bled and changed the world, but the fools who had tried their best to eliminate anyone who wouldn't fit into the world their soldiers had created. They'd learned quickly that you can't kill the blades - the true blades - on either side of the revolution. So they'd struck deals and offered incentives to them. He'd been given a job as a detective on the police force on the conditions that he changed his name and pretended to accept their authority. He had laughed coldly when the deal had been offered; understanding instantly that having a member of the Shinsengumi on a Meiji payroll would have tarnished their credibility. As far as anyone knew, Saitou Hajime was dead along with every other trace of the opposition.

He'd lived his life since hunting and wiping out corruption whenever and wherever he saw it. It was this resolve which made his current investigation so very frustrating. The Fuushiro family was one of the most corrupt businesses in Japan. They had their hands in everything from human trafficking to drugs and a little of everything in between. He'd been building an air-tight case against them since he'd begun his new life, but had met with resistance and problems at every turn. This was only to be expected as the Fuushiro brothers were heroes of the era and had therefore been labeled untouchable by almost every branch of the Meiji government. He would have preferred to administer his own brand of justice, but such a thing was impossible without something to back the act.

When he'd run across Areyn Fuushiro, he'd considered it Kami-sama's personal gift to him. The girl owed him her life, but on top of this, she seemed to think of him as a friend. He wasn't sure how he was going to use that to bring down her dirty uncle, but something about the way her eyes hardened whenever he brought up her legal guardian told him that he had only to ask and he would have an ally.

Of course, her position in the Fuushiro household was something of a mystery in itself. Her Ki all but screamed for vengeance at any mention of Maxwell Fuushiro, but it was tempered in a way that no eleven-year-olds should be. She was eager to learn the Hiratsuki, the signature move of the Shinsengumi and had picked up an astounding amount of his Gatotsu since she'd started her lessons. So who exactly was this girl? Although he was grateful for a possible source of information, her presence in Japan made no sense. There wasn't a Japanese man in this country that would soil their house's good name by taking a foreign child into their home. She hadn't been born here - as impressive as her grasp of Japanese was, she could never emulate the colloquiums that came from growing up in this country. Hell, Max was endangering his reputation by having such a girl around. Yet here she was, working for the man's house and sword training under his nose. Saitou had tried many times to discover her origins and her part in the power-hungry merchant's plans, but had always hit a brick wall. All he knew was that the girl was a foreigner - nationality unknown - and that she'd been brought to Japan five years ago. His own superiors had warned him about prying further into the matter. And while this could have been linked to the same warnings he'd been given regarding the Fuushiros in general, something about the urgency behind those warnings told him that there was something special about the girl herself.

But there was nothing on her. No mother, no father, no date of birth, and no adoption papers - it was as if the girl had not existed until she showed up in Max's dojo. It vexed that man to no end as he was known for his skills in investigation and digging up the very secrets that people preferred to keep hidden. And as much as little Areyn seemed to hate both her guardian and her station in his house, she did not seem ready to spill her life story.

"I will prevail," he vowed, tipping his hat to two ladies as they crossed his path. He would have Maxwell Fuushiro's head soon enough.

----------

"I wonder why Takani-sama sent you along this time?" a girl asked as she bounced rather than walked towards one of her favorite places in the city. "She usually sends one of the older girls as cover." She tossed her long braid over her shoulder for what seemed like the hundredth time and brushed invisible dirt off of her navy blue and purple ninja outfit, tossing self-conscious glances over her shoulder as she did.

Kenshin looked the wiry little girl over and couldn't help but chuckle. She'd been a good friend to him since he'd started training under Megumi-san. She worked as a servant in the house, scrubbing the house floors until they gleamed. Strangely enough, her hyperactivity and boisterous nature were perfect for her job, and she knew to stay out of the way when 'guests' arrived. Right now, however, Misao Makimachi looked torn between annoyance at once again not having her 'Aoshi-sama' to herself and excitement at the possibility of seeing her friend. It was rather cute once you got past the scary amount of energy and Ki she was giving off.

"Misao," the man walking several paces behind called drawing both children's attention despite his soft tone. The boy worked to repress a shudder as his chaperone's icy blue orbs raked him over briefly before his attention turned to the serving girl. "Don't get too excited."

"Yes, Aoshi-sama," she replied sweetly, blushing to the roots of her dark hair. Kenshin honestly had to wonder what the girl saw in him. No matter what the girl told him about her monthly visits, he could only read two things off of the stoic Aoshi Shinomori: cold and colder.

It didn't take long to tune out the idle chatter of the twelve year old - one might say that it was a survival skill if one knew the girl long enough. Instead he was focused on his own worries. Although he was clueless as to why he'd been selected as a front of the Oniwabanshu this month, he hadn't questioned his good fortune. After all, it would give him the chance to see the girl who had saved his life all those years ago. In fact, this would be his first time outside Megumi's him since the woman had taken him in. His measurements were taken for any clothing he might need and the entrepreneur would never stoop so low as to make one of her pupils go food shopping, not even as a punishment. The Silent Dove was large and comfortable, but after three years the place could seem a bit confined.

He'd therefore been looking forward to a change of scenery - no matter how brief - since he'd been told that he was going last week. He'd been distracted enough to earn extra training with his Shishio, but even the extra five hundred bokken swings a night couldn't dampen his high spirits. He'd meticulously laid out his best kimono so as to not shame his mistress, and had rehearsed his thank you speech countless times. He was ready to tell her how grateful he was for her help and how much he would be looking forward to seeing her again now that he was allowed outdoor privileges.

"Kenshin," Misao lilted in a theatrical whisper, "I've already told you that you might not get to see her at all."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the boy said, working furiously to hide his blush by studying the sunset. A quick glance at his friend showed that he was fooling no one, however. Her eyebrows were arched and the glint in her aquamarine eyes dared him to lie to her again. The boy groaned and sped up, acknowledging defeat. Most of Megumi's pupils had the snobbish-ness of geisha, making them highly unlikely confidants although he was agreeable enough to count most of them as friends. Misao had proven her ability to keep a secret many times over the years as he'd told her everything he could remember about the brave girl he'd only met once.

"You're blushing rather hard for-"

"I give, Mimi," the boy cried, throwing both hands up in defeat and using the codeword she'd given him to show that he was serious. "We're almost there."

Misao stopped teasing immediately. She was sulking, which for her meant that she stayed quiet for ten seconds longer than it took to draw breath for her next sentence. "Look I'm sorry, but you're making _me_ nervous," she whispered, this time lowering and modulating her voice so that their escort wouldn't hear. "Areyn-chan... Well, I'm not sure how well this is going to go for you. She barely talks to _me_ on the level, and I'm the help. I doubt she'll be willing to talk to you at all beyond the formal pleasantries."

The young samurai understood what she meant. He clearly recalled her transformation from sly and capable to humble and defeated, but...

"She wouldn't do that to me. We're the same age, after all."

"You're a year younger and I honestly don't think it'll make a difference to her." His confidence wavered slightly under the weight of her worried smile. "I just don't want you to be too disappointed, Kennie."

"I'll be fine," he nodded with more confidence than he felt as the dojo loomed into view. He suddenly felt very small standing next to such an intimidating building. He couldn't understand it - the place looked no larger than his mistress', yet it exuded a coldness that almost seemed deliberate. The leader the Oniwabanshu stepped around the two children and knocked on the front gate. The boy couldn't help but notice that the guards looked somewhat nervous and were quick to admit their visitors. The three were ushered into a large room and offered tea while they waited for the master of the house.

"Megumi's picking them a bit young for cover this month," Max said by way of pleasantries, nodding to Kenshin. "She knows I-"

"Megumi-san was a bit concerned after your... enthusiasm with the last pupil she sent," Aoshi said, his voice even colder than usual. "She asked me to convey that her pupils are not to be harmed when they enter this place, or they will no longer be allowed here." The two men stared at each other until the man nodded at the spy.

"Please send her my deepest apologies, Shinomori-san. I meant no disrespect to her or young Tessa-chan. It wounds me deeply that my brother's widow would feel such a threat was necessary to ensure the safety of her geisha. Of course I will be more careful with her girls in the future." His words were said with perfect contrition, but his eyes were as flat and furious as ever.

Aoshi betrayed nothing as he watched the man, though he was disgusted with the man's habit of beating the girls that Megumi sent with him. They were supposed to be a peace offering between the two houses, but last month Aoshi had been forced to stop Maxwell's 'fun' early and take the girl to the doctor. Kenshin was too young to be a proper companion to Megumi's brother-in-law and he was male - a warning that she had all manner of geisha at her disposal to use for the task they both needed accomplished. The man sighed inwardly as the children were dismissed and the real talks began. He honestly could not understand why he'd been given this assignment in the first place. He was the best spy in the Oniwabanshu network even at the age of twenty-six and everyone knew that this assignment was beneath him. But Okina, his mentor, was in debt to the house of Fuushiro and therefore the task had to be borne.

"...I feel that I'm being watched, Shinomori-san. My workers have been taking about a man asking questions that he shouldn't be asking. What do you know about that?"

"Fujita Gorou," Aoshi nodded, coming back to the conversation now that the simpleton in front of him was saying something useful. "I believe that he's the person you're referring to."

"And what are you doing about it?" the simpleton demanded furiously. "I'm not paying you and your spies to sit around and watch this man ruin my business! You need to-"

"You need to watch your tone and remember to whom you are speaking, Fuushiro-san," Aoshi said calmly. "'My spies and I' are among the best at what we do in this new age. We were the best doing the revolution as well," he added for emphasis. "If there is a true threat we will eliminate it."

"O-of course, Shinomori-san," Max said, the simpering tone returning to his voice as he poured a tumbler of brandy. "I can tell that you are already mobilizing your men. Forgive my lack of faith," he finished smoothly, offering the tumbler to the spy.

"You know that I do not drink, Fuushiro-san," Aoshi said. "If there is no more business, then I should be on my way."

"Won't you at least stay for supper?"

"No, thank you. I shall collect the children and be off."

----------

"Areyn-chan!"

"Hello Mi-umph!" That's as far as Max's niece got in her greeting before she was balled over, bucket of dirty water and all. "Misao! I just cleaned this hallway!"

"Did you really?" a voice that never failed to grate on both of the girl's senses pondered. "It doesn't look as if it was that clean to begin with, Areyn-chan. You will do it again. You will have no supper until it is completely clean."

"Yes, ma'am," the younger of the two servants said dully, obediently picking up the now empty bucket and ignoring her sopping wet clothes as she headed for the well.

"It was my fault, Tomagata-sama," Misao put in humbly. "Please allow me to assist-"

"You will do no such thing," Yumi barked. "I will not have a guest doing the work of that lazy, ungrateful leech. And what have we here," she continued, noticing Kenshin for the first time. "You don't look like our usual guests. What is your name?"

"I am Kenshin Himura," the boy bowed humbly, carefully schooling his features into an affable expression. Inside he was seething: trust Misao to ruin his first chance to see his friend! "I am pleased to meet you."

"You're still in training, aren't you?" the woman smiled, looking the boy over appreciatively. He was shorter than a boy of his seeming age should be, but had the good looks to become a true geisha in time. And that hair... "Well, don't worry. And don't hesitate to come to me with any questions you might have, Ken-san. I was once a geisha myself, you know," she winked before noticing the dark serving girl as she moved back into the room with fresh water. Her nose wrinkled. "Disgusting child."

"Forgive me, Tomagata-sama-"

"I insist you call me 'Yumi-nee-chan'," She nodded, all smiles and sweetness.

"Did you buy your freedom as Megumi-san did?" the boy asked innocently, having heard of the woman's sensitivity to the subject and taking advantage of it.

The woman's smile froze on her face at the question. "No, I did not."

"I see," he said thoughtfully, still acting as if he didn't know what havoc he was wreaking with his words. He was only a geisha in training, after all. "I thank you, Yumi-nee-chan, but Megumi-san's lessons are quite thorough. I do not believe I could handle any extra help at this time."

"You think you're better than me, boy?" Yumi growled shrilly at the veiled insult. "I was the darling of Tokyo's Whispers Teahouse before that haughty, no-good bitch-"

"Please restrain yourself, Yumi-san," the boy said with perfect calm. "I meant no disrespect, that I did not. I was only-"

"Do not think to reprimand me in my own house, boy," Yumi spat. "The life of a geisha is a hard one, make no mistake. Has your vapid mistress even bothered to tell you about the rigors you will face in your chosen profession?"

"My mistress stresses the importance of appropriate timing. I believe that she is planning to wait until I begin my official training in the art of physical love to introduce those concepts. And I would ask you not to insult Megumi-san again."

By now the head of the kitchen staff was turning an alarming shade of purple and looked about ready to slap the boy. Instead she stormed off, kicking Areyn in the side as she passed.

"Wow, that was perfect, Kennie," Misao laughed admiringly once the woman was gone. "No wonder Takani-sama likes you so much."

He gave her a dark look before approaching the other house servant. "Areyn-chan, I-"

"Hello, Himura-sama," she droned as she scrubbed the floor. "I am happy to see that you are well."

"You can call me Kenshin."

The girl was already shaking her head. "Himura-sama is a geisha. I would never insult him by addressing him below his station."

"But I want you to," the boy said, feeling the conversation slipping out of his control. Where had his well prepared speech gone? How had the child on the floor managed to fluster him so easily? He looked over at Misao and cringed at her sympathetic shrug.

"Darcy-san, I-"

"Fuushiro-san," the girl corrected sharply, making him blink. He had only been trying to get her attention. But while he certainly had it now, he had not expected such a reaction from saying her name.

"The night we met you said your name was-"

Areyn had stopped her furious scrubbing and was now on her feet, glaring at him with those intense dark eyes that he remembered so well. "I am a member of the Fuushiro family. Fuushiro-sama is my uncle. Therefore my name must be Areyn Fuushiro; I have no other name."

Kenshin was too dazzled by her Ki to disagree at first. While she did not sound nearly as agitated as her aura said she was, but he was still very concerned. Why did she not want him to use her name? She was the one that had told him it when they met!

"I apologize, Himura-sama," she said, her voice and Ki evening out as she went back to her work. "I am quite proud - and fortunate - to be a member of this household. I gave you a false name the night we met out of fear that we might be discovered before we could reach Takani-sama's teahouse. Please forgive my selfishness."

He knew she was lying. Megumi had taught him how to detect lies as part of his training, but this was different. Her words were dry and smooth - there was no trace in them that she had spoken so vehemently just moments ago. And the explanation made sense when set against the chaos of that night so long ago. But he still knew that she was lying to him as surely as he knew that the sun set in the west. He found that he did not like it when she lied to him.

"I don't believe you, Areyn-chan," he said softly, reveling at the jump in her Ki even if it did not show on her lowered face. "But I will abide by your rules for now. I just wanted to thank you for helping me that night. You saved me, you know? I am forever in your debt, Fuushiro-dono," he finished, happy that she had frozen at the honorific. "I hope that we can be friends."

"Geisha do not fraternize with the help, Himura-sama," the girl said quietly, suddenly seeming to remember why she was on the floor. "Surely Takani-sama has made that clear to you."

He almost laughed at her attempt at deflection, wondering briefly just how many she had repelled with her tone and manner. Before he could lose his nerve, he knelt down on the wet floor and placed a warm hand over her soapy one. "Megumi-san has made a number of things clear to me, the importance of settling debts being one of them." She was staring at him again and Kenshin had to wonder just what he had said to spark the flash of pain that had filled her gaze so briefly before her mask had slid firmly into place once more.

"Himura-sama is much too generous to one so low."

"We shall see," he said, feeling his mind, and his blush, catching up to his tongue and actions. "I'll see you later, Areyn-chan." She said nothing in response, but he did not mind that either, as he was red enough as it was.

"Kenshin, Misao," a deep, cold voice interrupted, causing all three of the children to jump. "It is time to go."

"Of course, Aoshi-sama," Misao grinned, bounding to his side. Kenshin followed quickly, leaving the girl to her scrubbing.

----------

"What did he have to say about the policeman, Aoshi-kun?"

"He will be dealt with, Megumi-san," the man said, his face as expressionless as ever. But Megumi knew him better than that.

"Who is he, Aoshi-kun? You seem anxious about him."

"He's one of the last of the Shinsengumi, Saitou Hajime. He and I fought many battles during the Bakumatsu. If he has come looking to end our rivalries-"

"How would he know that you're involved at all? You are our best kept secret. He has no reason to attack you if he's after my poor Akira's brother," she reasoned, not liking the rising pitch of her voice.

"Your pupil conducted himself quite impressively tonight."

"Don't change the subject."

"He managed to enrage Yumi-san without losing his composure. The mark of a true geisha."

"What was the fat cow offering him?" she asked, her interest piqued at this tidbit of information.

"Private training," the spy responded. "Young Kenshin will do well here, Megumi-san. But he will likely leave you as soon as he is able. It appears that he has taken an interest in Fuushiro-san's niece."

"Oh really?" the woman laughed, her eyes wide. "He pissed off that common whore _and_ desires my favorite person in my stupid brother's dojo? I'll have to send him more often." 

"And the girl's?" Aoshi coughed. He was not overly concerned, but the point needed to be made.

"Don't even bother telling him anything. Max needs you more than I do now, and I prefer my girl's to stay in-house unless I know they're relatively safe. If he wants my girls, he'll have to come here from now on."

"He won't be happy."

"Neither was I when Tessa almost died. It's been a month and she's only now beginning to regain her composure around her clients. What he did to her was completely unnecessary."

The man nodded in agreement, remembering the grisly scene he'd walked in on when the poor girl's screams had become too high pitched and desperate. "He's after his niece as well."

"Anyone can see that," Megumi sighed, waving the information aside. "If the girl is half as smart as I know she is, she'll reject them both. And as politely as always." Again a nod. "Are we finished here?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Will you be staying for dinner?"

"Yes," the man said again, his eyes surveying her thoughtfully.

"An appetizer before the main course then?" She did not wait for a response before reaching for her obi. The man watched her as she removed the intricate knots in the wrap. Megumi knew that he liked to watch her deft fingers work, and therefore made sure to tie the cloth around her waist into the most complicated patterns she could think of when he came to her teahouse.

Aoshi waited until she had removed all of her clothing before walking over to her. 'Typical,' she thought, even as he leaned her back over her desk and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. Such was the price she paid monthly for the right to keep her business free of the men who sought to take it from her. It was simple - so much simpler than such an arrangement would have been in her old teahouse in Tokyo.

He entered her as roughly as always, doing little more than pushing his pants down out of the way before taking his monthly fee. The entrepreneur could remember exactly when he'd begun that little habit. Seven years ago the woman had attempted to end this arrangement. He'd let her know in no uncertain terms that only he had the power to end things between them. But there was no pain in his swift thrust as there had been that night; she'd grown used to the treatment and was all the wetter for it.

His eyes held no warmth, nor did they ever - not before the act and certainly never after. He would have her tonight and leave in the morning and never grace any of the rooms below. That was his price for removing her enemies and problems. Megumi had discovered that she liked the arrangement, but not nearly as much as she liked his eyes. She liked the way they burned where ever they touched her. The woman had learned her geisha lessons well and over the years she'd become as cold as ice underneath the cheery banter she presented to the world. It was only in the circle of this man's arms that she came alive. His eyes were as cold as she felt inside and she liked that most of all.

Outside Megumi's door, Sano stood frozen in shock and hatred. He'd forgotten what he'd come to ask his employer about. His fists were clenched hard enough to draw blood as he watched the woman he loved being willingly violated by one of those treacherous Ishin shishi bastards that had betrayed and destroyed the Seikihou Tai halfway through the Bakumatsu. His eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'm going to kill you for this Aoshi Shinomori."

* * *

Thank you all for reading the latest chapter of my story. Whether you liked it or not, please review. I would like to hear what you guys think of my work so far, as well as any suggestions you may have

For those that are upset by the last scene, I know that Aoshi/Megumi is not a normal pairing, but it suits my purposes.

I am looking for a pre-reader for this story. Anyone interested, please contact me at again to ShadowElite for posting a review for me.

Please look forward to the next chapter!

- Minghella


	5. Chapter 4: Ends and Beginnings

Chapter 4: Ends and Beginnings

"I thought I told you to leave Fuushiro alone!" Gorou made no response other than lighting yet another cigarette, which only made Yoshi Kawaji angrier. "You're a disgrace to this precinct and this country, Fujita!"

"Does this precinct, this country stand for corruption?" the tall man asked nonchalantly. It was the first time he'd deigned to speak since being called into his 'superior's' office a half-hour ago.

The chief of police had the good grace to blush at the accusation. "That is not the point, Gorou. The Fuushiro brothers are considered by most to be the saviors of the revolution. Without their munitions-"

"-bought with dirty money from a dozen 'businesses' that were illegal even under the Shogunate. Back then they knew how to deal with such criminals," Saitou finished with an air of finality.

"Look, these orders come from much higher up than either of us," the small, balding man behind the desk growled, the veins beginning to appear in his forehead. "If it weren't for whatever strings you've managed to pull thus far, you'd have cleared out your desk long ago-"

"Are you threatening me?" the detective asked, his voice soft and cold with hostility.

"For the last time, Maxwell Fuushiro is off-limits!"

"Why is that?" This new voice caught both men off-guard. There was power in that voice.

"Lord Okubo," Kawaji gasped, bowing to show respect. Saitou even put out his cigarette as a small show of respect. Unlike most of the Meiji government, Toshimichi Okubo had proven that he was above the petty thirst for power that other officials often fell to. He was working to stabilize the country after the devastation of war - no small task given that his ideals often put him at odds with the rest of his compatriots.

"To what do we owe this great honor, my lord?" Kawaji gasped, bowing even lower. Saitou scoffed quietly at the display. No matter how much he respected Okubo, he still found the blatant awe and adoration in the police chief's voice highly amusing.

"I apologize for not announcing my arrival earlier, Kawaji-san, but I needed to speak to you immediately," the Secretary of the Interior began graciously. "Ah, I see that Gorou-san is here as well. Perfect." Mibu's Wolf did not bother replying, knowing that Okubo had only mentioned him to remind the police chief of his priorities.

The reminder had the desired effect as the balding little man straightened his uniform in an effort to stop fawning and got down to business. "We are honored to receive you, Lord Okubo. How may we be of assistance?"

"I am here to request an official investigation of the Fuushiro estates." The look on Kawaji's face was enough to make the man laugh out loud, but laughing was something Okubo rarely indulged these days. Instead he took a seat in front of the shocked man's desk, situating himself carefully so as to avoid watching the chief of police's rather accurate impression of a fish out of water. In truth, he could not blame the man for his reaction. Most of the Meiji government all but revered the Fuushiros as little less than gods for their help during the Bakumatsu. This made them untouchable in the eyes of the law.

It was on this point that Okubo took offense. "Kawaji-san, you must forgive my intrusion today, but quite frankly, Gorou-san is correct in this matter. Maxwell Fuushiro and his brother were nothing more than criminals even during the revolution. I know for a fact that Katsura-sama would never have allowed for their involvement in the revolution at all had Ryoma Sakamoto not engaged their service secretly and unfairly extracted a promise from him before his death."

The men fell silent as they contemplated one of Kogoro Katsura's closest and most trusted companions during the revolution. It was common knowledge that while Katsura had led the Ishin shishi during the Bakumatsu, it had been Ryomo Sakamoto who had ensured success by initiating a number of secret and underhanded strategies behind the honorable man's back. Rumors still abounded as to his exact tactics, some even going so far as to propose that he may have stooped so low as to use young children as Shinsegumi spies during the chaos. Given his notorious reputation before his assassination during the final days of the revolution, the authorization of illegal arms did not seem beyond him.

"The Ishin shishi were fighting for freedom from the old ways, and Katsura-sama abhorred the idea of using such criminals to establish the new world we were fighting to create."

"With all due respect, Lord Okubo," Kawaji began nervously. "It does not do well to speak ill of the dead. Everyone knows about Sakamoto-san's exploits, may Kami-sama rest his soul. But Lord Katsura has only been gone a few weeks and-"

"-and I was one of the last people to see him before his death," the Secretary interrupted smoothly. "At which time he confessed to me that the use of Fuushiro munitions was the biggest mistake of the revolution. He also charged me to rectify that mistake. Because of his promise to Sakamoto-san, he was unable to clear the good name of the Ishin shishi in his lifetime. But he and I both agreed that for the Meiji government to have proper credibility, it must be allowed to distance itself from all lawbreakers and their _continued_ criminal activities. Fuushiro has been given every opportunity to... redefine himself in this new era of peace. Seeing as he is set in his ways, it is time to treat him as any other felon."

"If the Meiji government wants to distance itself from corruption-"

"Yes, Gorou-san, I realize that there are a number of other criminals and practices that the government needs to step away from to rid itself of corruption. But we have to start somewhere, and quite frankly the unspoken directive that we must honor the Fuushiro brothers as heroes for their shameful actions has always sickened me. It would make a very good example to have Maxwell Fuushiro answer for his continued crimes, thus sending the message to the people that no one is above the law."

A new light was shining in Kawaji's eyes. "Lord Okubo," the chief of police said softly, his dark eyes shining with awe. "I had no idea such high ideals existed in the upper circles of government! How may this district help you in your quest?"

The man he was addressing looked highly amused at the unintentional slight to the supposed guardians of the Meiji Era, but continued on nonetheless. "I would like a special task force put together to investigate the Fuushiros. And should it be found the he's indeed performing illegal deeds, I want him arrested and prosecuted to the full extent of the law. I also was any accomplices brought down as well."

"Do you realize what you're asking?" Kawaji asked. "Max Fuushiro is one of - no

_the_ most well connected and protected man in Kyoto right now. He's the man most politicians go to for protection. Bringing him down could take years, maybe even a decade. And as for his accomplices... I wouldn't know where to even start. His political power has allowed him to make a vast number of connections."

"His contacts will likely begin distancing themselves from him once they understand that we are serious. So by taking him down, we would be effectively weakening the criminal element's foothold in our beloved country. For such a lofty goal I am more than willing to authorize the use of whatever staff and funds necessary. He has had six years to entrench himself in this society, I hardly expect him to be gone next week."

"But who would be crazy enough -"

"I would consider it an honor to put him away myself," Saitou decided to interject. From the look on the police chief's face, the man had obviously forgotten that he was in the room. "I already have a number of leads and ideas regarding him. If I may be allowed to put together my own task force, I would be willing to work as long as it would take to do all that you ask."

"I was hoping that you would volunteer, Gorou-san," Okubo nodded. "You're reports on this matter have been most impressive." He carefully ignored the suspicious glint in the police chief's dark eyes, understanding at once that Kawaji had not been informed of his subordinate's true background. "I will leave this matter in your capable hands, Kawaji-san. I only ask to be kept informed of your progress."

"Of course," both men said, bowing low.

----------

"WHAT??" Max yelled, infuriated. "They can't investigate me! What is the meaning of this?"

"Lord Okubo himself has called for this investigation, so it cannot be stopped. And he's recruited Fujita Gorou to the cause-"

"You told me that Gorou was no threat to me years ago!"

The dark-haired spy could not help a small hitch of breath - the equivalent of a sigh of exasperation. "It seems that Gorou has caught the ear and attention of Lord Okubo."

"Then kill him, dammit! I have not worked this hard to have my dynasty destroyed by some small-minded cretin."

"If you knew anything at all about the man, you would know that he is by no means 'small-minded', Fuushiro," Aoshi said coldly. This was the problem that Maxwell refused to understand. Mibu's Wolf would not be dissuaded from his course, nor would he be an easy adversary to defeat.

"It may be time to reconsider your position in Japan. A strategic retreat-"

"Are you saying that Okina's best soldier is afraid of a single police officer?"

"Be careful, Fuushiro," Aoshi ground out, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I lead the Oniwabanshu since Okina's death, and unlike him, I have no reason to continue putting my resources at your disposal outside of an old promise."

"I meant no-"

"Save your excuses. I only came here out of respect for the former Okashira of the Kyoto Oniwabanshu. I have given my report and my evaluation of the situation. If you decide to fight the Meiji government from such a vulnerable position, expect no further help from me."

"Where the hell is my entertainment?" the man being addressed shouted angrily, determined to change the subject and at the same time use whatever last shreds of influence he had over Shinomori. Damn him! How dare he come here, to the Fuushiro dojo, spouting empty threats! Although the small part of his mind not dedicated to his fierce anger commented that the master of the most effective and efficient spy network in Japan was not given to threats - empty or otherwise - he refused to listen to it.

"Takani-san has taken my advice and has decided to distance herself from your establishment. There will be no more 'entertainment' from the Silent Dove teahouse."

"You can't just stop reporting to me," the men yelled, beyond fury at this point. "I helped make you! You and your spies would have been destroyed by the Shogunate had

I not intervened-"

"That was a long time ago, Fuushiro," Shinomori said calmly, seeming to have regained his composure with the former arms-dealer's loss of temper. "In the last six years we have become a power of our own in the new era. You seem to be determined to remain in the old world, where our potential was taken for granted. I have no time to waste on fools who refuse to see what is right in front of their faces. Good night, Fuushiro-san. I doubt we shall meet again." With that, the man left the tarnished house of Fuushiro, almost glad that the more level-headed, wiser Akira Fuushiro had died before seeing his reluctant work destroyed by his brother's greed.

----------

'I'm going to do it tonight,' the boy reassured himself silently for the fifth time that night as he ran a nervous hand through his spiky brown hair. He was crouched behind a stack of crates his target had hauled out and stacked earlier that evening, watching her practice her art under the light of the late night moon. A yawn escaped his lips before he could smother it but the dark-skinned girl did not falter in her movements or seem to notice that she was being observed as she rolled smoothly into yet another repetition of her kata.

Yahiko grinned suddenly, impressed with his own cunning. This was not the first time he had come to observe this girl in her training after all. He had been working as a pickpocket for a small gang looking to carve out some territory for themselves up until they had been arrested a few months ago. With no other ties to the area and no clear plans besides survival, the eleven-year-old had been wandering Kyoto aimlessly, stealing when he needed to, but generally keeping a low profile. That was when he'd first seen her.

The chubby girl had been cornered by at least ten men who were all arguing over who would take her first - not an unusual scene on the supposedly peaceful streets of the Meiji Era. What had struck him, however, was how very calm the girl had seemed in the midst of all the talk. While the men laughed raucously about how good she was going to be to them, she had simply repeated her desire to go home. No one seemed to have noticed her reaching for a broomstick as she glared them down. When the first man approached him, she had swung decisively, breaking his shoulder-blade and shortening her stick to bokken size at the same time. After that, the girl had run through the hole left by her fallen enemy and proceeded to break bones and dispense of all of her attackers like she had done this a thousand times before. Afterwards, she'd simply tossed her splintered broomstick aside, muttering something about the stupidity of men in general as she retrieved a basket of sad-looking produce, and stalked back into the crowd purposefully. That had been two weeks ago.

Since watching this display of power from someone that had no business knowing how to fight like that, the young boy had been scrambling to learn everything he could about her. When he'd found out that she was a servant in the Fuushiro household, he had decided that his best bet was to approach her and get her to teach him to fight. He was starting to think that moving on might be a good idea, but with her moves he was sure to be able to protect himself should he run into any of his old ?friends?. As he continued to watch her take down her invisible opponents, he wondered if he would ever work up the nerve to interrupt her.

"Please come out, whoever you are," the girl said politely to the empty air as she finished her kata. "It's late and I need to get to bed before I get caught."

For a moment Yahiko was too stunned to move.

"If you won't come out, then I have to insist that you stop skulking around my uncle's property," she continued calmly, leaning against a stack of boxes facing her intruder after putting her broomstick off to the side. "I won't be held responsible should you be caught."

This seemed to break the boy out of his stupor. "Hey wait," he said in a loud whisper, standing up at last. "Look, don't tell anyone I'm here, okay? I'm not here to hurt anyone." The girl he was addressing smiled softly and beckoned him closer. He drifted over to her in a daze, caught in the softness of her smile. His mother had smiled like that when she was alive.

"What's you're story?" she asked once he was close enough for her to get a good look at him in the half-moon. "You've been stalking me for quite some time."

"I wasn't stalking you," the boy stammered.

"SHH," she said at once. "People are trying to sleep. And I've felt you following me around for days now, little man. I would like to know who you are."

"My name is Yahiko Myogin and I come from a proud samurai family of Sendai."

"You're a far way from home Yahiko Myogin," she said, once again dazzling him with her smile. "What brings you here?"

"I... I was traveling with some bad people," the boy answered lamely, suddenly ashamed of his pickpocketing days when confronted with those liquid brown eyes of hers. "I got away from them, but my folks are dead and I don't have anywhere to go." He fidgeted under her piercing gaze, wondering if she would accept his abridged life story. In the two minutes since he'd met her, he had decided that he wanted to stay with her if he could. It was her smile that decided him really. The boy had not encountered such a comforting presence since his mother had died. "I want you to teach me how to fight like you do."

"Why?" she asked after what seemed like an eternity of silence.

"Because... because you're strong and I need to become stronger," Yahiko squirmed under the girl's scrutiny, feeling his age for the first time in years. Inside he was trying to think of another argument to convince her. He just knew that she was the perfect teacher for him; he only had to convince her of the fact.

"Well, thank you, but I'm not fully trained myself, Yahiko-san," she said quietly at last. "And no one here knows that I can fight. Can you keep my secret?"

"Of course I can! I'm not some little kid," he answered easily.

"Okay, little man," she chuckled, holding out her hands in mock surrender. "You'll have to get a job in the area if you want me to train you. I wouldn't suggest you use me as a reference either. I'm not very popular around here. If you can do all of that and stay out clear of those 'bad people' of yours, I will try to teach you some of what I've been learning, deal?"

"Deal," the boy said readily, hugging her happily before remembering himself and breaking away self-consciously.

"My name is Areyn, by the way," the girl smiled, pulling the little boy back into a hug. "You'd better get out of here though. It's pretty late."

"You'll see me tomorrow," Yahiko promised as he ran off.

-++++-

"Areyn, get out here," Yumi yelled, her nose wrinkling as the girl came out of the house covered in soot from cleaning the chimneys out. "You almost wouldn't notice the dirt," she added to one of the cooks, who laughed nastily.

"Yes, Tomagata-sama," the teenager bowed as if she had not heard the insult.

"Are you finished with those chimneys yet, you filthy slug?" the woman growled, hoping for a reaction.

"Yes ma'am," the foreigner said humbly.

Yumi growled under her breath, but couldn't find a way to prolong things. "We have a new servant in the house, Yahiko Myogin. He'll be assisting you in your chores."

"Yes ma'am," she responded, turning bland eyes on her new helper/pupil, but inwardly rejoicing.

----------

"Do you realize what you've just done, Kenshin?" Naru asked quietly as they started back to their mistress' teahouse. Although she asked the question passively, inwardly the 23-year-old raged with emotion. Part of her was livid at this slight to her mistress' training. But a larger part of her greatly envied him. Few were so brave as to challenge their fate as he just had. Megumi-san would have to be informed, of course.

"Kenshin, are you listening to me?" She glanced over at the doomed teen and paled at the golden-eyed glare he was directing straight ahead of himself as he walked. His shoulders were pulled back and his tread was stiff but dignified. It was obvious that he had heard her just fine and just wasn't in the mood to answer. And as much as she would have loved to simply leave it at that, today he was her ward and if Megumi found out that she hadn't said anything to him, she would be punished as well.

"This was your first client. You've been told continuously how important this night would be. I was sent to help with your introduction and this is how you-"

"I understand that you will need to inform Megumi-san. Please do what you have to do, but spare me the lecture. I am perfectly aware of what I've done." He said no more and Naru took the hint. She had no desire to face his wrath after all. Kenshin's temper might be hard to rouse, but once roused it was fierce and nearly unquenchable.

"I just hope you're ready for this," the woman said at last, letting the matter drop.

-+++++-

"Please come in, Ken-san," Megumi said wearily. She watched the fourteen-year-old enter and had to shake her head at his determination. It had been two days since his failed attempt with his client, but she had waited this long to summon him intentionally. She knew that she should begin using her usual tactics that instilled fear into all of her pupils, but Aoshi had been quite... thorough with her earlier that night and she only wanted her bed at the moment.

"Speak up, boy. I'm sure that you have something to say for yourself after Naru-chan's report."

"I have nothing to add, Megumi-san."

The entrepreneur sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. "Kenshin, you are a geisha now. I have trained you myself in the art of pleasure and lovemaking, something I have not elected to do with a geisha in years. I arranged for your debut a year before the rest of your classmates because I believed that you were ready. Was I wrong?"

The boy cringed with guilt, and Megumi had to restrain herself from smiling.

"I am grateful to you for taking me in, Megumi-san. Your training was not wasted on me - I intend to repay you as we agreed. But I also remember that you mentioned the possibility of buying my freedom when the time came. I would like to discuss that option please."

"You can't be serious! You are a natural at this life, boy. Are you truly willing to throw it all away now, before you've even started?" The steely look in his eyes told her that he was quite serious. "Ms. Gina is willing to forgive your... offense. She is quite taken with you and eagerly awaits your next encounter."

"Your terms, Megumi-san."

"How can you just-?"

"Please, Megumi-san. Don't make this harder than it has to be. You have been ignoring my requests for a price since you began training me. I know that you've intended for me to stay, but this is not the life I choose. My disrespect towards 'Gina'," he said the name with derision, knowing that it was a fake anyway, "was another attempt to prove that fact to you."

"She doesn't even love you," Megumi said quietly, feeling the bite of his words and wanting to hurt him back somehow. "She loves no one; I doubt she's even capable of love. And if she is, she will give that love to her guardian - willingly or not, it won't matter to-" The woman stopped suddenly, seeing the homicidal rage in her pupil's golden eyes.

"'She' is none of your concern, Megumi-san. How much do you require for releasing me from the life of a geisha? I know that you were destined to remain at your tea house in Tokyo because your mistress was determined to keep you. Are you condemning me to the same fate?"

"No," the woman grudgingly said at last, her expression thoughtful. Though she had many apprentices in her teahouse, she longed to keep him. Kenshin had proven to be quite exceptional in the years since she'd taken him under her wing. The boy possessed the strength of spirit that her female clientele went wild for. And as for the men...

He could easily bring in the income of five geisha had he the desire to do so. She therefore considered it a cruel twist of fate that the life of a geisha did not appeal to him in the least. He went through his lessons dutifully, as he'd agreed to. But it was clear that his heart was not in the training. Although he still easily surpassed the others, he would not-

"Then I'd like to come to an arrangement then," the boy said coldly.

"Very well," she replied. It would be foolish to name a lump sum of money for this boy, as he was already in high demand and had proven his cleverness by botching his first assignment just enough to anger his teacher without losing the client. Whether or not his slip had even been intentional was beside the point now. Shura-san had already announced her intention to be his patron. Not to mention the dozen other women and men clamoring for the same honor. Any monetary goal she set would be met in weeks or months.

And the little bastard knew it.

"You will work for me until you turn sixteen," she sniffed loftily, "during which time I will take 50 percent of your earnings to pay your expenses."

"That's unacceptable," the boy said forcefully. "Name your price."

"I will not. You forget, Himura-san, that I saved your life when I took you into my teahouse," she said lightly, showing her hand at last. Judging from the shocked look on his face, he was in no position to protest yet, so she plunged ahead in triumph. "The Ishin shishi butchers were very thorough in wiping out any of the old regime that may have come back to haunt them someday. As an assassin for the Shogunate, your father and the rest of the Goheis would have been high on that list-"

"I do not acknowledge that pig's name," the boy growled dangerously.

"Of course, you don't," Megumi said with a placating wave of her hand. "But that doesn't change the fact that the Ishin shishi would have. And they managed to get rid of Fugisawa Gohei's entire family - save one small boy with blood-red hair and 'eyes of golden fire'," she quoted, staring into her pupil's shocked orbs, where gold and violet warred for dominance even now. "I make it a point to investigate all of my potentials, especially ones that suddenly appear before me," the woman smirked in satisfaction at his continued shock. "Are you surprised, little boy? You went so far as to lie to dear Areyn-chan about your origins. Did you think I wouldn't be able to see through something so simple as your mother's maiden name?"

"If you knew," he began slowly, "then why did you-?"

"Why did I take you in?" the former geisha chuckled. "Because you are such a beautiful boy! If I hadn't taken you in, those idiots would have destroyed you and I couldn't have that. Also, it gave me something to hold over you, just in case. You're right, of course. My mistress was determined to keep me with her even though I wanted to start my own teahouse. I won't put you through the same ordeal, but just the same, you _will_ work for me until your sixteenth birthday. On that day, we will discuss things. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Kenshin said quietly, fighting for composure. He was trapped and he knew it. "I'll be practicing with Master Hiko."

"Of course, child," Megumi said indulgently. "Just remember that you are not a swordsman, you are a geisha. Should I find you spending too much time with Sir Hiko and his defensive training, I won't hesitate to stop it."

"Yes, ma'am," he bowed, hiding his golden eyes behind his bangs.

----------

"You're progressing well, Areyn." The girl took a moment to let such rare words of praise roll over her, savoring them almost as one would a fine wine. Saitou couldn't help but smirk, used to this reaction. The compliment was well earned, however. She was currently moving through her final set of katas with grace that should not have been possible in someone so portly. Her form was excellent; it was obvious that she would be a great swordswoman in time.

"That will be all for today."

"My uncle has been in a horrible mood these last four months," she said, shocking the police detective to stillness with the sudden statement. Young Fuushiro seemed to have expected this reaction, and simply stared at her mentor. "That _is_ what you wished to hear, is it not?"

His eyes narrowed at the knowledge in her words, but he managed to swallow his shock and jump into the conversation. In truth, he had been contemplating just how to ask her for help since beginning his now official investigation. Given her sudden willingness to talk about her guardian, he decided to get to the heart of the matter.

"You know that your uncle's under investigation, then?"

"I don't know how anyone within three miles of the dojo wouldn't know by now," she shrugged, leaning against the alley wall. "Shinomori-san came to tell him about the investigation and we all thought he was going to-"

"Shinomori?" the girl swore she saw the Wolf's ears prick at the name.

"Yes," she nodded with a shrug. "He's been spying for my uncle and Takani-sama for years. They had a talk that night and Shinomori-san left after withdrawing his help. He said that Takani-sama would no longer be sending her wh- geisha anymore. Uncle's been frantic ever since. He talked about killing you that night; I was a little afraid he might have tried already."

"What else can you tell me?" Saitou asked eagerly. So, Aoshi was in this too? A few more pieces of the puzzle fell into place for him. It was no wonder that the Oniwabanshu had withdrawn their support if Aoshi had figured out his identity. The idea of a coward like Max Fuushiro attacking him was laughable; the man would send whatever dwindling contacts he had after his opposition, thinking the Wolf a simple police officer to be scared off of his case. But should the Okashira decide to interfere... "What?"

"I said I don't have anything else right now," the girl huffed. "I'm not being watched all that closely right now, but I'm not sure how long that'll last. In the meantime, I'll find out what I can if you'd like."

"Why would you help me?" the policeman asked, seeing an opening. "Don't you have something to lose if your uncle is brought to justice?"

"Not nearly as much as he has," she grinned. "I won't be that big of a help, I know. And I'm sure you've got plenty on him already. But I also can't tell you what you want to know."

"What do I-?"

"You always watch me like I've got some information for your case. It's like you think that if you can figure out who I am and where I came from, you?ll have enough information to bring my uncle down. And you're right," she finished quietly. For the first time in his life, Saitou found himself wanting to hit a woman. His frustration was almost palpable as he stared at the girl, his mouth working soundlessly as his countenance darkened.

"If I'm right, then why won't you help me?" the man said at last, clenching his fists at his sides.

"Because there's more at stake than you could possibly know," she answered promptly. "I have my own debts to settle, and Max Fuushiro has to pay. But if I tell you everything now, he'll escape his real punishment. I made a promise to a dead man and now my hands are tied. But I can make you a deal if you're interested."

Saitou mulled over her cryptic words before replying. "You know I'm interested."

"Good. I will give you as many tidbits of information that I can find on my uncle's dirty dealings. I'm taking about his plans, his supporters; every bit of information I can find out. I will do this for you for as long as I can because I really do own you my life and it doesn't mess with my other obligations," she added carefully, feeling his anger about to ignite.

"In exchange for my cooperation, I'm asking you to not press me for my personal details. If you haven't gathered enough to put my uncle away by my eighteenth birthday, I'll tell you my real name."

"What difference will knowing your name do?"

"Trust me. When the time comes my real name will be all you need," Areyn ground out with so much steel in her voice that he decided not to question her further. As a master of interrogation, Saitou Hajime knew that he could have gotten her name regardless. But the steel behind her words said that it would not be nearly as productive as accepting her terms.

"Do we have an accord?" she asked formally, extending her hand to shake.

"We have an accord," he answered, shaking the teenager's hand solemnly, feeling the weight of his words settle around the two. At that moment he knew that he had just found the perfect ally for his task.

* * *

Thank you for waiting for the latest installment of my fanfic. I just want to assure everyone that this is not an abandoned fic. I'm about halfway through this story and the second half is shaping up to be pretty exciting in my humble opinion. Just a couple of things:

1. That bit about Ryoma Sakamoto was a tribute to Neko-chan and her excellent fic "The Spy and the Hitokiri". Her work is what inspired me to write my own Kenhin fanfiction.

2. Yahiko's introduction was inspired by Dragon Daughter's "The Geas". She's another talented fanfiction author who's work I enjoy.

3. The character/timing/situational/pairing renovations are not nearly complete, so please bear with me.

4. Anyone who thinks they can take on my writing mistakes please email me at I'm very interested in hearing what people think of my work. Feel free to post or email me whether you like my work or not.

Please look forward to the next chapter!

-Minghella Darcy


	6. Chapter 5: Duty & Honor

Chapter 5: Duty & Honor

The silence of the dojo was highly unnatural, but not unexpected after two years of the Meiji government's best turning his full attention on him. Max Fuushiro looked over his domain with alcohol-reddened eyes and growled, smashing his sake jar against a nearby wall. 'Humbled' was the word that best described his once lavish estate. The walls of his home, once expertly maintained to show all who simply passed by that he was a force to be reckoned with, were in desperate need of paint and maintenance. The staff of beautiful, mostly nubile women that laughed and worked within this edifice had long been dismissed to save money. Many sections of the house had simply been closed off now that the only inhabitants of said home were himself, his lover, and his dark-skinned servant.

"That girl..." Fuushiro ground out angrily, wishing for more sake suddenly. His plan for her had been brilliant. Seduce the heiress and reap the rewards of a fortune worthy of royalty. He doubted the little chit even remembered that her net worth outside of this world he'd forced her into was more than that of some small countries. With that much wealth at his disposal, he doubted even the mighty Officer Gorou would have been able to touch him. Where had it gone wrong? The girl had her mother's face, a face he'd once thought to steal from the foolishly idealistic naval captain he'd duped into befriending him so many years ago. Elizabeth Grayland, then only engaged to his former puppet, had been possessed of a beauty that called to mind Ethiopian queens. She had been strong-willed and stubborn to be sure, but at heart she was delicate and well-mannered. He felt the first stirrings of desire imagining the woman broken and crying out as he took possession of her as only a real man could. She should have been his! In another situation and time, she would have been his. But fate was cruel, allowing him to only watch as she and her own family's sizable fortune had slipped through his fingers.

But it seemed that all similarity to Elizabeth ended with Areyn's facial features. At heart, his ward was weak and rather dim. He often found himself feeling nauseous when confronted with the smell of her, a rotten smell that lingered even after she bathed. 'Of course', he admitted begrudgingly to himself, 'that may be because we're all but starving her'. Indeed, what food he and his faithful mistress could afford was shared among the pair, with the scraps reserved for his useless goddaughter. Her limbs were supple but almost stick-thin, alarmingly so when compared to the fat belly under that damn kimono she wore. He hated her, hated her for her politeness; hated her for her weakness where her dear mother had been so strong. He could march into her room right now and show her how a man takes what's rightfully his, but he knew he would get no pleasure from it. There was nothing to break in her; the girl's will had been broken eleven years ago upon hearing of her precious parents' deaths. Even revealing his part in their demise would give him no satisfaction; for all that she was the child of his beloved Elizabeth, she was nothing but an empty shell of a girl with no will and no desire to break the chains of her captivity.

Suddenly, a thought pushed its way through the fog of inebriation. If bedding the girl was no longer a palatable option, he could always have her _sign_ over her fortune.

"Yes," he nodded to himself, excited. The wording would have to be precise, but he could simply have her trade her meaningless life for any and all inheritances she might be entitled. Surely after so many years being under his thumb, she would leap at the chance for freedom! That way she would return home, penniless but free, and he would reap the benefit of her affluence without ever having to see that infuriatingly familiar face again!

His eyes alight with what some might call madness, Max started back to his private rooms, his intent to celebrate his cleverness with a good, hard f*ck from his woman. In the morning, there would be a victory to seal.

"We'll see who's the strongest when I have more money than Kami-sama, Gorou."

"…And Lido's arms shipments have started again," Areyn concluded her monthly report. "I've heard rumors of a warehouse on the east side of the docks that he's using for storage, but I haven't been able to narrow it down to a specific number yet."

Hajime leaned against the alley wall thoughtfully, allowing his young pupil's words to sink in. In the two years since they'd stuck their unusual accord, she'd become the type of informant that he both did and did not like. The young woman was cunning and brave in her information gathering, her sharp ears missing very little detail that may be of interest. However she had an annoying habit of forming connections with that same information, a habit that was dangerous in this type of investigation. He constantly worried that her stubbornness would eventually cost him a valuable resource.

"You're digging too deep again, Areyn-chan," the police officer scolded. "I've already told you that I can't protect you if-"

"I don't need protection, Saitou-kun," she broke in angrily. "The information I'm giving you could have been gotten from anyone in the Whispering Leaf Teahouse, the only place he'll meet his contacts anymore. You know as well as I do that my idiot uncle is too stupid to realize that I'm the traitor. You've made sure to keep our lessons a private matter all these years too, so I'm not seeing the problem. Besides, Fuushiro is trying too hard to seduce me into submission right now to notice much of anything." This last was whispered with lowered eyes and cheeks that would have been dark red had her coloring allowed it. It still irked the man that she would only divulge what she knew he could act on immediately during their talks. There was no doubt in his mind that his willful student knew a great deal more about her uncle's plans, but was holding onto the information until a scapegoat could be found for it. It was galling to know that should she be caught, her knowledge would no doubt die with her for her treachery and that her trust in him did not extend beyond his next arrest.

The Wolf of Mibu was not known for his impatience or incompetence after all. Beginning his investigation with a series of arrests in the lower ranks of the Fuushiro Empire had been a brilliant move lauded by his superiors. It had shaken up the organization and lost Maxwell Fuushiro enough face that a number of his more respectable contacts and clients had completely disavowed him. For a few months there, it had truly seemed the end of Fuushiro. But the man had not manipulated both the Ishin shishi and the Shogunate during the Bakumatsu by giving up so easily. While Akira Fuushiro had been the troubled yet capable brains back before the Meiji Era began, his older brother had learned the business end of weapons smuggling well enough to cultivate his own contacts and methods. He'd dug himself deeply into the seedy underbelly of Kyoto's society, using every contact, every crumb of influence he had left to keep what he'd built. And Hajime had let him. 'All the better to find the evil and destroy it,' he mused, noting that his student/informant was about to take her leave.

"Until next week, Saitou-kun," she lilted, gracefully bowing before grabbing her groceries and proceeding back to her master. Without a word, the man watched her leave, taking a moment to admire her ability to blend into the sea of humanity even in this foreign land. It astounded him how the teenager had somehow managed to gain the closest thing to respect she would ever get from his countryman over the years. While it was still painfully obvious that she would never fit into Japanese society, idle taunts were no longer flung her way out of the blue and most of the male population in Kyoto knew not to trifle with the girl on pain of a sound beating.

Fuushiro's desire for his servant had become an open secret as of late. Which was odd. Not only did the girl not fit the classic beauty of his consort, the man was not approaching the situation as any sane man would. Whatever the situation between the two, they were still master and servant. Most men would have approached her by moonlight and ended the matter easily. However, if anything, the arms dealer seemed to be attempting to court her, suggesting that he wanted her favor as well as her love. What could a servant possess that would make him go to such lengths? Even more troubling was the sight of his nemesis in the courthouse earlier that morning, an expression of such relief and glee on his face. No one seemed to know what the man was up to, but according to other sources, the sight Max in the courthouse had not been uncommon over the last week and a half, nor was anyone privy to his purposes there. Whatever it was, Saitou could not help but worry for the young woman.

"What do you have in store for her, Max?" he pondered quietly, making his way back to his home, when his wife and children awaited him.

Later that same night, a slightly sickly looking shadow moved stealthily, easily blending into the night. Areyn smiled slightly as she went to investigate her lead, fully aware of what she must look like to the unsuspecting populace of Kyoto. Over the past two year, the seventeen-year-old had carefully altered her appearance so that under her threadbare kimono, she looked obscenely portly, much like the starving children from distant lands that she used to read about. It had been a hard thing to obscure the graceful, slender curves of her impending adulthood from her dimwitted uncle, but she had finally managed it with a series of small mud and jell-o filled bags strategically attached to a bodysuit she wore at all times. The only downside to this method was the unsavory aroma that constantly surrounded her. But, try as she might, she could not see this as anything but a blessing as her lecherous uncle tended to spend a great deal of time in her personal space of late. In fact, she was a bit surprised when only Yumi showed for dinner tonight. As an even bigger surprise, the woman was not even spitting her usual venom during the short meal while the girl stood around waiting for the hated mistress to finish, opting to throw speculative glances her way throughout their awkward time together instead. For this, Areyn was also grateful, as the strain of constantly maintaining her defeated persona had been wearing on her lately. Maybe it was because she was so close to completing her father's plan, but sometimes she wondered how the other two occupants of the dojo didn't see right through her.

Halfway to her destination, Areyn suddenly stopped and let out a sigh. "You can come out now," she called softly. Immediately, two figures joined her on the street. "You two _should_ be in bed," she scolded just as softly.

The two she was addressing immediately looked chagrined. "I thought you said you were a spy," the younger of the two griped to the older.

"Former spy," Misao ground out indignantly. "I got us this far, didn't I?" she added.

Areyn couldn't help rubbing the bridge of her nose, feeling yet another of their rather infamous arguments. She honestly could not understand how either of them expected to get the drop on anyone being so loud. Even as deep in her musings as she had been, the teenager had been able to track the pair with no problems. Yahiko and Misao become fast friends immediately after being introduced on one of the young servant girl's impromptu visits eight months ago. While they were quite good at keeping to the shadows and muffling their movements, neither of them could keep from bickering constantly as they followed their target.

"You know, Misao, Okon is not going to be pleased if you're not able to do your usual day's chores. I doubt 'sleep deprivation' counts as a valid excuse." Hearing the tell-tale snort behind her, the girl whirled to reprimand her student. "And you, Yahiko! I'm surprised you're here at all, considering how early you need to be up tomorrow morning." The boy lowered his gaze, knowing his teacher was right. With the Fuushiro dojo under such close scrutiny, it was inevitable that his full past would come to light. Yet somehow – and he still suspected that the dark-skinned woman in front of him had much to do with it – his only penance had been community service and the immediate termination of his job with Max Fuushiro. The latter had been more of a slight towards the once powerful and influential arms dealer more than anything, but the former pickpocket had been happy to be away from the den of vipers his teacher worked in. How she could endure the endless backbiting, taunts, and sexual overtures was beyond him. Even with the rest of the once powerful entrepreneur's staff gone, he still preferred paying for his room and board at the local boarding house with honest manual labor to the alternative.

"We don't care if we're sleep deprived tomorrow," Misao growled vehemently, bringing the boy back from his musings. "We're not gonna let you stroll into danger alone anymore!" Areyn was taken aback by the statement. And, if the startled look on her young pupil's face was any indication, he had not expected it either. In fact, this was the most passionate the sixteen-year-old had become in the thirteen months since discovering that her beloved 'Aoshi-sama' was sleeping with the Mistress of her former teahouse.

"Misao… I'm… Well, I'm grateful for your concern. But for goodness sake, I'm older than both of you, and I know what I'm doing!"

"Yeah, trying to get yourself killed," Yahiko muttered angrily. At the girl's pointed glare he elaborated. "What exactly are you trying to prove anyway? It's Gorou's job to catch your uncle! And if you get caught out here, that man really will kill you."

"He wouldn't dare," Areyn spat bitterly. "He still needs me to-"

"Needs you to what?" Misao jumped in immediately. She groaned when the older girl simply stared at her. "Look, you never tell anyone anything, Are-chan! We're supposed to be your friends, so you should just tell us what's wrong so that we can help you!"

"And what exactly do you two think you can do that a policeman can't?" she growled right back, stopping dead and glaring at the duo. "I made a promise to – I made a promise already, okay? And Sa- Fujita is counting on me, which means I have a job to do. I don't need you two getting in the way with your constant squabbling. If you hadn't noticed, I'm honestly not interested in being caught tonight. Go home." With that, she turned and left the two standing in the middle of the street, worry mirrored on both of their faces.

Kenshin was quick to dress, Shura noted with her usual pang of unhappiness. "Why are you in such a rush, Ken-kun? You know you could always stay the night here." She couldn't help the surge of hope as she said it, even knowing what his answer would be. The young geisha was a truly accomplished lover, never having allowed a patron to leave his arms unsatisfied. But at the same time, he never seemed to find his time exploring the realms of passion fulfilling. In fact, if there was anything she could find fault in with their time together, that was it. She would scream and writhe under his power, but it was power he never seemed interested in having over her. On the other hand, as far as she knew, no one shared that coveted place in his heart. He never even cried out in the midst of lovemaking, not since that first time with her. A frown marred her kiss-swollen lips as she turned on her side and faced the teenager now walking out of her room, deigning not to answer what even she knew was a silly question by now.

"Who is 'Are' anyway?" she sighed angrily.

The boy in question did not even stop by the baths on his way to Megumi's office. Today was his sixteenth birthday, which meant that his two and a half year contract with that witch of an employer was over. Megumi had done her best to entice him to stay as one of her geisha. But when that had not worked; she'd switched to more practical matters, namely how to get the most out of her most prized possession. Kenshin had spent almost all of the time he had left in the teahouse pleasing anyone and everyone with the money to pay. His popularity was such that Megumi had carried out her threat of stopping his warrior training to leave him more time for contracts. As of today, however, that was over. He had already spoken to his sensei, who had agreed to take the teenager with him when he left Kyoto tonight. Apparently, the sword master had always planned to return to his mountain and solitude after the war. The fact that he was willing to take his one-time student with him spoke volumes of HIko's estimation of his potential. The prospect of fully exploring his potential and not spending his days as some woman or other's plaything excited him to no end. He knocked and waited, wondering what last minute trick his mistress planned to try this time.

Megumi sighed when she heard the knock, already knowing who it was. She had actually hoped for a little more time to prepare herself before facing the loss of her favorite geisha. It had shocked her to realize how much she still wanted the boy to stay here. Equally shocking was her constant vacillation between the desire to play the role of mother to him and her body's demand that she take him as lover. The loneliness she had kept at bay since childhood had been crushing her as of late. But the loss of one's only true friend could do that to a person.

~~Flashback~~

_ "Get out here, you rebel slime!"_

_ Megumi had stirred from troubled sleep, her body still contoured around that of her stone-faced lover. Brain still foggy, she lurched her way out of bed, absently pulling on a yukata as she went to look out her window. There, standing in her back courtyard, raindrops falling off a sword that was easily the height of her home and looked heavy enough to take down a horse and his rider with one thrust, was her personal bodyguard._

_ "Sanosuke Sagara, take that monstrosity of a sword out of here. And keep your voice down," she snapped, seething when he didn't immediately obey her order. "You're scaring my clients." Indeed, many of her patrons were stirring; or at the very least had stopped whatever activities they were doing to look on in curiosity._

_ "I don't give a damn about your clients, Fox. You tell that bastard to get out here so we can settle up. My blade wants blood!" Before the woman could think what she could do to defuse the situation, her spymaster was already walking out her door to face the threat. Without a thought to her current state of dress, the proprietor of the teahouse barreled out of her room to stop him._

_ "Don't, Aoshi," she cried, grabbing his arm as he started down the stairs. "He'll kill you with that sword." The man gave her one of his most frigid stares to date, as if insulted that she would say such a thing._

_ "He will not."_

_ With that, he pulled his arm from her grasp and descended the stairs, trenchcoat fluttering in his wake. It was only then that she noticed that she was barely clothed, surrounded by patrons. She wasted no time dressing so that she could intervene somehow. 'Sano, you big buffoon. What in the world are you thinking coming here like this?'_

_ Meanwhile, Aoshi pushed through the crowd at the courtyard entrance, sword in hand. "What is the meaning of this?"_

_ "The Seikihou Tai demand vengeance," the man bellowed as if it should make a difference. Aoshi allowed his thoughts to drift for a moment until he found the memory that half-forgotten name inspired._

_ "Ah," he said at length. "I thought your last name sounded familiar."_

_ "The hell with names, it's time-"_

_ "You have taken your time avenging your father."_

_ "__He wasn`t my father, you cold-hearted bastard! Captain Sagara was a good man who fought and bled for the same ideals you bloody Ishin Shishi did. Only you and your corrupt comrades destroyed us before that glorious vision was even in sight!"_

_ "That still does not explain your presence here tonight," Aoshi stated smoothly, unaffected by this declaration. "I have frequented this establishment for years-"_

_ "It wasn`t until I learned of you and my mistress that I had cause to cut your evil down," Sano growled beginning to swirl his gigantic blade menacingly. "I`m not going to stand idly by while you toy with the life of the woman I love." There was a gasp at this, but neither man seemed to notice._

_ "Your mistress and I have an arrangement. One that she has never had a problem complying with." Megumi gasped again, this time with embarrassment. This was the closest to gloating that she had ever heard from the leader of the __Oniwabanshu._

_ "Do you love her?"_

_ "Of course not."_

_ "Then you shouldn't be sleeping with her."_

_ Aoshi actually chuckled at this. "What a strange ultimatum for a whore who runs a whorehouse." The reaction was immediate._

_ "That's enough, both of you," Megumi cut in sharply, determined not to have this spectacle continue. "This is still my property and I want you BOTH off of it!"_

_ But Sano was beyond words at this point, bringing his weapon down to crash where the spymaster should have been. "Get back here, you coward! No one talks about her that way."_

_ Aoshi let the man have his head, knowing that this was the last battle of the Seikihou Tai. 'How appropriate that it be a losing one,' he thought contemptuously, dodging yet another swing of the massive sword._

_ "Fight, you spineless-"_

_ "You will not insult me again," Aoshi breathed quietly from behind him. When Sano tried to retaliate, he found his fist, a fist capable of shattering walls, grasped roughly moments before he was slammed face-first into a stone wall._

_ "I give you the honor of witnessing my final technique, Seikihou Tai," the man said as he watched his opponent stumble to his feet, icy blue eyes narrowing to slits. "You shall join your companions tonight."_

_ The easy retort died on the street fighter's lips as he saw his adversary split into multiple images, whirling around him at a speed he could never hope to match. It was at that moment that Sanosuke Sagara realized that he was going to die._

_ "You deserve so much better than he can give you, Fox," he called almost sadly to the only woman he had ever really cherished, picking his sword up from the ground in an attempt to block death. The strike came a split second later, the last sound he heard in this life the sound of flesh ripping as her sweet voice yelled out his name into the night._

_ "Why? Why did you do it?" Megumi hollered, running to attack the man who'd just murdered her... bodyguard. "You knew he couldn't beat you! Why didn't you just scare him away and leave it at that?"_

_ Aoshi flicked the blood off his sword, unconcerned with the woman's antics. "Did he seem like the type to scare so easily?" he shrugged, stepping over the dead man as one would garbage. "You-"_

_ "Aoshi-sama?" a small voice, one that he had secretly almost regretted confronting with this knowledge, piped up._

_ "Return to headquarters for your new assignment," he said indifferently as he prepared to crush her dreams._

_ "Aoshi-sama, why?"_

_ The man made sure to look directly in her eyes, knowing this was the only way she would stop this foolish and futile pursuit of him. "I have no time for children." Just as he'd expected, tears flooded her aquamarine eyes and the teen clutched her heart as if the pain he'd just inflicted on her were physical. Surprisingly, she did not weep as he had expected, letting the pouring rain be her tears._

_ "Yes, Aoshi-san," she whispered, knowing that it would carry to his sensitive ears. Misao took one last moment to look at the corpse at her feet, severed into three bloody chunks, and understood in a moment that when the pain of his betrayal had faded, she would go on with her life separately from Aoshi Shinomori. That she would likely even be thankful for what this night's events had saved her from a life with a man who was physically incapable of not hurting those around him. That thought offered some small comfort as she walked away, never once looking back._

_ The man in question simply watched her go. Whatever small part of him wanted to go to her, to soothe the pain he'd just caused in her crushed ruthlessly by the Okashira. Love, the kind of love she wanted did not exist, and the sooner she learned that, the better this life would be for her._

_ It wasn't until he turned away from the heartbroken girl that Megumi chose to retaliate, slapping him viscously and making sure to get her nails into the act. "You used me to destroy that little girl. Toyed with someone who truly cared for me before killing him mercilessly before me very eyes. You are no longer to come here Okashira."_

_ With a shrug that belied the blood on his face, Aoshi Shinomori set off into the storm, his mind already on which of his spy network would be best to take his place. The Silent Dove was an important asset to him after all, even if this fiasco had established that his personal presence was no longer needed._

~~End Flashback~~

As is wont to happen, since the death of her - her breath hitched as she thought the words - potential suitor, her mind would wander to her times with him. It was frustrating how often she would see pointless moments in her dreams where his dark eyes would soften and he would look as if he were about to say more. What purpose did it serve, anyway? Sano was dead! Even the snapdragons he'd fallen into on his death had mourned him, withering away to nothing in the weeks following his death. The former geisha couldn't help a bitter laugh as she noted the heather the gardener had put in their place. How appropriate.

"Megumi-san? Are you there?" Oh right. Kenshin.

"Come in, boy. I haven't got all night," the woman declared, ready for this meeting to be over. "How soon can you clear out your room, Kenshin? I have more potentials coming in after all, ones that will appreciate the gifts I will so lavishly bestow on them." She winced inwardly, having been unable to help the small jab at him. First Sano and now Kenshin. It was no wonder she had never trusted men...

"Shishio and I will be leaving at dusk," the answer rolled off his tongue, but his beautiful violet eyes were fastened on her daringly. "Megumi-san-"

"Then go! Go and play with your swords for all I care," The mistress snapped angrily, disturbed by the recognition she saw in his face. "It will be interesting to see you try to find employment, being a samurai slash whore!"

"Megumi-san, is this truly the path you want?" the boy asked, ignoring her harsh words entirely. Megumi wondered again at his aptitude for this life. Perhaps it was best that he not continue by her side. Such blinding insight would surely have gotten him killed in the long run.

"There is no path for me, save this," she quoted from some play or other, sighing heavily. How in the world could he look at her with such pity and yet such a penetrating gaze that she felt for a moment that her whole life was spread out before him?

And, in the most infuriating part of this, their last encounter, he did not even bother to respond. He simply bowed deeply in respect and left. She turned back to her courtyard as she heard the shoji door closing, ironically feeling caged even though she was clearly the master of this prison.

"Only if you wish it to be, Takani-sama," his soft voice sounded just as the shoji shut, leaving the woman to ponder this parting shot. Just then she spied a Star of Bethlehem poking through the heather patch.

Megumi wept.

"Are you ready to become a man?" The question, as usual, was rough and full of the humor of his apprentice's predicament: a geisha that wanted to learn the way of the sword. The concept was so disjointedly amusing that Hiko Seijiro almost felt compelled to teach the boy just for the laughs it would bring him for years to come.

In all honesty, the sixteen-year-old had amazing amounts of potential, and from their sparring match this afternoon he could tell that somehow Kenshin had managed to keep up with his training between 'appointments'. It would be interesting to see how far his student was able to advance in his chosen field of study.

"I will meet you later Shishio. There is something I must do."

"You know she won't come with you." The man felt something akin to compassion as he saw the longing swirl through the teen's strangely colored eyes. He decided to take a kind of pity on the boy, knowing that his stubbornness would lead him to heartache by the end of the night. A heartache that he would not understand for years to come. "Your friend is as iron-willed as you, boy. And she has her own mission to complete. She won't be able to give you what you want of her until after she's done what she's come here to do."

"You don't even know her!" the boy ground out, his nails digging into his palms as he fought for composure. Hiko smirked at this.

"I know _of_ her, boy. And I have seen her before come to think of it." He decided just one more time to give his pupil the answer, knowing it was pointless. "You have put your heart aside for the last nine years, doing what needed doing to survive to this point. Will you begrudge her the extra time it will take her to finish her task?"

Instead of answering, Kenshin stalked off, fury clearly written in every line of his body. "So be it," the thirteen master of the Hiten Mitsurugi sighed, taking a long swig of sake before heading off to their arranged meeting place.

Anger was still rolling off of him in waves when Kenshin Himura reached his destination, Fuushiro's dojo. His original intent had been to go to the man himself and plead his case, offering to protect her in the shelter of his master's home. But his Shishio's words gave him pause. What if she truly was not willing to leave with him? And what was this about a mission? Kenshin had been thrown into the life of a geisha by her; he'd endured... Well, he'd endured and now she owed him. She would come with him. She had to.

Thusly decided, Kenshin reached out to knock on the dojo gates when a hand caught his.

"She isn't here, Kennie," a spiritless voice greeted him. It had been over a year since he'd heard that voice and the changes to it were astonishing.

"Mimi?" Truthfully, the boy was thunderstruck by what he saw when he turned to question her. Her eyes, once so full of life and laughter, were dull. The energy that used to radiate off of her in waves was now gone, leaving a depressed teenager of his same age. She smiled mirthlessly as her old friend gawked at her.

"The Okashira had me assigned to the Shirobeko. Apparently, he felt that I needed to do some 'women's work' instead of 'gallivanting around the city like a man'.

Hearing her so despondent made him hate Aoshi all the more. Ever since that faithful day when he'd shattered her heart, Kenshin had dreamed of avenging her. However, he'd been present at Sagara's execution – for it could be called nothing else – and knew it would be years before he could even attempt such a feat. In the meantime…

"Back when… When Sano died, you said you weren't going to let him control you anymore. Right?"

The girl looked dejected, but did her best to muster a smile for her old friend. "But the heart doesn't forget so easily, Kennie."

Before he could think of a reply, a new voice cut into their conversation, sounding panicked. "What are you two _doing_ here?" Before either teen could reply, Areyn ran up from down the street and grabbed both of them, dragging them away from the entrance to her home. "Go away! If Fuushiro-san catches you here, he'll kill us all."

"It's my birthday, Are-chan," Kenshin announced, feeling familiar warmth spreading through him at her nearness.

"Happy Birthday," the teen said absently, still looking startled and afraid as she pulled the pair down the street. Once they found an empty alleyway, she let them go. "What were you _thinking_, Misao?" she growled, whirling on her younger friend. "The sun hasn't even gone down yet! And you KNOW how much Yumi loves to find reasons to torture me. And why in the world did you bring _him_?" she continued, pointing an accusatory finger in the boy's face, all the while ignoring his stunned expression. "Or are you and Yahiko determined to see me beaten bloody?"

"I didn't-"

"I came on my own," the former geisha ground out, not liking being talked about as if he weren't there one bit. "I came to collect my birthday present." He grinned interiorly as the older girl's bewildered expression. Truthfully, this was the most emotion he'd ever seen from the brave woman who had saved him all those years ago. He liked it, and nothing would please him more than to see more. "Aren't you going to ask me what my present is?" he grinned, all smiles as he advanced on her.

"I…" For a moment she faltered. But when her back hit the filthy alley wall, she remembered herself. "It's… It's not my place to care," she sighed indifferently, feeling some semblance of her usual façade returning. "If you have business in the dojo, I shall take you there." She moved to pass him, but stopped just short of touching his extended arm. "This way, Himu-"

"Stop doing that," he yelled, grabbing her shoulders. "Stop hiding from me, Areyn! I want you , don't you see that?" He wasn't expecting the shove that sent him sprawling. Nor the kick to his gut.

"What I see is a spoiled, stupid child who hasn't learned a thing in all the time I've known him," the servant growled out in a voice that chilled him to the bone. "I know you want me, and so does my lecherous uncle! I'm not something to be sampled and taken for granted. I'll kill you both before I let that happen."

His astonishment was palpable. Then he growled himself and gained his feet. This time he wasn't going to let her steal the conversation from him. "I'm not trying to 'sample' you, Areyn. I just want you to be mine. I'm leaving the city tonight with my master. We're going to his cabin in the mountains, were I can train in peace. If you come with us, I can protect you. I can love you. I can-"

"You're such a child," the girl growled again, hands fisting. How could he possibly understand, this spoiled, pampered little boy? "And how do you plan to protect me, you lazy leech? You have no viable skills, no prospects, and no future! You're planning to hide in mountains like the child you are, living off the land like a vagabond, letting some old war vet take care of you in the meantime. God, you're pathetic. Go away; hide in your mountain, Himura-san. Some of us have _real_ work to do."

Her words stung in a way Hiko's blade never could. Pathetic? She thought him pathetic? All his life he'd dedicated himself to the protection of others, the latest example being her. "What do you know about-"

"I told you to leave, geisha. There's no need for your services here."

"You're the one who-" So many words! Why couldn't he get the words out? Why couldn't he express himself around her. Areyn was one of the most frustrating females he had ever encountered, and even his training didn't seem able to help him. "Look Areyn, I'm offering you an escape! You don't have to be trapped by the past. You don't have to stay here!"

"And if I _choose_ to stay?" the girl countered derisively. A slight widening of his eyes was her only response. "I'm here to do a job. That man, the man I work for destroyed my family and my life. It would be wrong of me to pay him any less courtesy," the girl finally revealed to her shocked audience. "My father tasked me with something I would have done even if he hadn't begged me to. But it's not enough to avenge my family anymore. No, I wanted that spineless bastard to lose everything all at once, the exact same way he took away everything from me. Leave with you? Walk away from it all and make a fresh start?" she scoffed furiously. "You couldn't drag me away."

"Don't you love me?" the former geisha tried again, desperate to regain control of the conversation.

"Love you? For God's sake, I don't even _know_ you. We've met a handful of times in the last nine years. And unlike you, I haven't had time for useless daydreaming. My days are full of backbreaking labor and my night are-" with a quick look around, she cleverly changed tacks. "I dream of vengeance, nothing more." She sighed heavily, knowing this would be hard to hear for a boy who was so used to getting everything he wanted. "Your life in service was my fault, I admit it. It was the only way to keep you alive. And I don`t begrudge you wanting to be free of that life, Lord knows you`ve more than earned it. But the new life you`re offering me… I don`t want it. I just-"

"Then you don't want me," Kenshin ground out, turning away in defeat. He didn't want to see the pity in those depthless eyes.

If he had but looked, he would have seen nothing but pain and anguish, followed by a rage strong enough that even he had to brace himself against it.

"Fine! I don't want you! Are you happy now?" she screamed, suddenly not caring who overheard her. "There's obviously nothing left for you in this wicked city, so leave, go be the whore samurai, with no practical skills to support yourself!" Before he could think of a suitably caustic remark, she had retrieved the grocery basket she'd left at the mouth of the alleyway and left him to future. 'I wish you the best… Kenshin.'

* * *

Yes, it's been a ridiculous amount of time since my last update. Between school, work, marriage, and a two-year-old, I've kinda had my hands full. I will say that I woke up yesterday with the perfect way to end this fic and it literally has not left me alone since. Only one more chapter to go, and I promise it won't be 5 years before I update again.

Just a couple of notes:

1. Yes, I'm aware that I'm about to receive a deluge of flames for killing off Sano. But I swear it was necessary to the plot. I'm of the school of thought that Misao is largely wasted on Aoshi and that she sells herself short by settling for a man that's determined to be unhappy. Honestly, I feel the same way about Kaoru, but that's another story for another time. If I had more time, I might have put someone else in their for the poor girl to turn to, but I've decided that the 'finding your inner strength' motif is a much better message than the old standby 'you can't be happy without a man'.

2. I am fully aware that the flowers I picked for Megumi's final scene probably don't grow in the same climate. But for the purposes of that scene, it made sense. Megumi is the kind of person that would know the meanings behind certain flowers. Snapdragons symbolize presumptuousness; something I think perfectly symbolizes Sanosuke's actions the night he died. Heather apparently represents loneliness. 'Nuff said. Finally, Star of Bethlehem represents hope.

3. I'm notorious for not knowing where certain quotes come from. So I'm honestly not sure where the line Megumi used is from, or whether it's a quote at all. My mind has always been a mish mash of information, I'm never quite sure what's gonna pop out at any given time.

4. Like I said, it'll only take one more chapter to wrap things up, I think. So please look forward to it. In the meantime, critiques are the reason I post here. Please feel free to indulge me ^_^

-Minghella


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